


Always

by AMiserableLove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:31:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMiserableLove/pseuds/AMiserableLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if before Storybrooke, a young eighteen year old Emma Swan found herself in a far away land known as Neverland? What if once there she had frolicked with a young Pan, while crossing paths with the devilish Captain Hook? Had it all been a dream, the imagination of a physically and mentally exhausted girl trying to survive? Or had the strange land actually existed, the faded memories real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is AU while still sticking with main canon elements. Most of it takes place in the past which gives me more creative liberties. I will be loosely following canon through the Doctor Episode where the gang of princesses find Hook buried beneath the bodies in the Enchanted Forest. However canon really doesn't come into play too much until the last chapter. This will be a four part series.

**_Part 1: Peter and Emma_ **

_ New York, Late September, 2001  _

The screaming wouldn't stop.

It was loud and angry—the harsh and livid argument drifted up the stairs in furious waves. The sound of the high pitched shrieking and the deep bellows echoing throughout the tiny house with each cutting curse and annoyed accusation.

Emma Swan sat on her small creaky bed, staring at the window on the wall opposite of her. It was a cool September night, the light breeze causing the white curtains that draped over the opened screen to billow out softly, invitingly.

Listening to her foster parents continue their heated shouting match, Emma's mouth dipped down into a small frown and she closed her eyes, trying her hardest to ignore all of the noise.

It was her birthday.

Absently she ran a hand over the raw and broken flesh that covered her aching knuckles, attempting to block out the memory of why her hand was so torn up in the first place, realizing with a flash of anger that the simple task was near impossible.

He had tried to touch her.

Her foster father.

The sick bastard had tried to put his big filthy hands on her and she had fought him off desperately—slamming her fist into his face repeatedly and clawing her nails into his eyes until his screams had drawn the attention of his stupid drunken wife. Catching her husband wailing on the ground with a defiant Emma standing over him, the woman had screamed for her to go to her room before turning her attention to the man writhing on the floor and moaning in pain.

Thinking about it now, Emma sighed sadly; today had definitely not been a good day.

And it was _her goddamned birthday._

Glancing at the clock that sat on the chipped and battered nightstand next to her bed, she cringed at the bright neon green numbers—they read a little after midnight. It was official…she was eighteen. Finally old enough to age out of the foster system…tomorrow she could leave this all behind.

Holding back the angry tears that were threatening to spill over her clenched eyelids, she took a deep breath and shook her head furiously as her lips trembled with the promise of a devastating cry. Willing herself to remain strong, she refused to give into the weakness. She wasn't fragile…she was a survivor—an adult now. No longer a child with foolish dreams and unrealistic expectations. And while sure she was somewhat broken...she wasn't shattered—she knew better than to shed worthless tears over stupid things that couldn't be fixed.

"Are you okay?"

On a gasp, Emma glanced up and sprung to her feet fast, ready to fight off the intruder with clenched fists and an angry scowl. Heart racing, her eyes landed on a boy—he was about her age and was leaning against the open window casually as if he hadn't a care in the world. His brown hair was rumpled, his face dirty and his clothes strange. And he stared at her with an expression that was an odd combination of guilt, sadness, and understanding.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Emma asked in a guarded tone, her eyes darting to her closed bedroom door.

She could make a run for it…she was fast. But glancing over at the boy, who still hadn't straightened from his spot near the window, she considered the idea. She'd probably get into trouble. Her foster father always called her such horrible and undeserving names—he'd probably only accuse her of inviting the strange and odd-looking boy into their home. And with everything that had already happened that night…she really didn't want to deal with _that_ too.

"I'm here to take you away, if you want me to."

Emma rolled her eyes; although she noted with caution that weirdly enough, she was somehow unafraid by this strange boy's presence—a soothing part of her reassured her he meant no harm. "I'm not going anywhere with _you_." She stated, shaking off the odd feeling of trust that was threatening to worm its way into her system, whispering for her to let her defenses down.

"You can trust me."

Emma shot him a surprised look, curious by his choice of words and her line of thinking. "Oh yeah? Why would I? Who are you?"

He grinned at her and his eyes twinkled full of mirth. "Pan…some call me Peter."

Emma arched a brow at that and suppressed a nearly hysterical giggle…she really was losing it. Maybe she _was_ slightly certifiable, just like her foster brothers constantly claimed her to be...when they weren't already busy throwing disturbing innuendos her way. There was no other explanation for it. No way to explain what was happening in the confines of her small bedroom...other than she had finally broken down and had gone bat-shit crazy. Why else would she be having a conversation with a dirty boy who had crawled through her bedroom window, claiming to be Peter while offering to take her away.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly, wishing the whole miserable day would end. "Oh really? Like Peter freaking Pan?"

"You've heard of me."

Surprised by his answer, Emma stared at him blankly for a moment, before shaking her head slowly—her tired brain unable to really grasp the ridiculousness of her current situation. "Oh sure I have. You're Peter Pan leader of the lost boys…and—and I'm Wendy right?"

"Is that your name?"

"Oh come on, you're going to claim to be Peter Pan and you don't even know who Wendy is?"

"Well didn't you just say that _you're_ Wendy?"

Emma sighed and rolling her eyes, she sat back down on her bed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth with a shake of her head. She was losing it. "Isn't Peter Pan supposed to be you know… _younge_ r?" She asked, not sure why she was indulging the guy in the first place.

His eyes narrowed slightly at her comment and he gave her a somewhat hurt look, "hey I'm not _that_ old…not any older than _you_ anyway." He paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words, and shrugging his shoulders, he smirked. "I guess, I've been away for awhile though….so I may have aged a bit…but it's time for me to go back. And I want you to come with me." The boy grinned and pushed himself away from the wall; extending his hand out, he motioned her towards him, frowning when she made no move to get up.

"How did you even get in here?"

He didn't answer her, merely shook his head and offered his hand again, "Come with me Wendy."

It didn't even occur to her to correct him, her brain still struggling to catch up with the odd conversation. "I said I'm not going anywhere with you, why would I?"

The boy, Peter, smiled sadly, his eyes, which Emma noticed were a dark twinkling brown, glanced over at the door Emma had considered making a run for, only moments ago. "I can take you to a place where you'll never have to worry about people like them…you'll never have to become one of _them_."

Emma raised a brow, skeptic, yet curious. "Oh really? And where's that?" she asked, although deep down, in a place she had never known existed, she knew his answer.

Peter's sad smile widened into a mischievous grin, and making his way over to her, he picked up her hand and drew her to her feet. "Neverland."

And with that one softly spoken word, the scent and sounds of the sea enveloped her, invading her senses and beckoning her home.

* * *

_ Neverland  _

"Is that Captain Hook's ship?" Emma breathed, her mind still reeling with the knowledge that these _fairytale_ characters actually existed. Peering down at the large ship, from her perch high on the moss-covered cliffs, she took in the sight of the great vessel. It was magnificent—its sails billowing in the wind, its wooden planks gleaming in the sun.

Peter glanced down, his face registering mild surprise. "Hook left Neverland awhile ago…I'm still not exactly sure how he's able to come and go so easily...it's supposed to be harder for grown-ups…" he mused more to himself than to her; his usually sweet and kind face twisting into an unattractive scowl. "Rumor has it the pixies gifted him with knowledge of a constant sea portal…so he could have eternal access to this world—come and go from his land to here as he pleases. I'm not sure why they would give him such a treasure…then again pixies are fickle creatures." He paused and casting her a sideways glance, raised a brow. "How do you know about _him_ anyway Wendy?"

Emma frowned at the name, she had never bothered correcting him before they had left for Neverland—quite certain that the whole silly thing was a dream, and she'd wake up in the morning still plain old Emma Swan…Neverland a distant memory…everything else unchanged, her life unfortunately the same sad hell it had been before.

And now, as the "dream" continued to unfold, she found herself unwilling to give up the game. It was too much fun— frolicking around the mysterious place while pretending to be Wendy as Peter Pan gave her the grand tour of a land so beautiful, she could barely come up with the proper words to describe it. She never had much of a childhood and this was a dream come true, even for an eighteen-year-old girl who really should know better.

And she did know better, a calmly realistic part of her was constantly reminding her that none of this could be real, that all of it was impossible. But with a stubborn little sigh, she pushed the thoughts aside. It was her birthday dammit. Neverland, whether real or a figment of her imagination, was magical and she wouldn't deny herself the fun of it.

"I told you…there are stories about you. Where I'm from, you're Peter Pan the boy who never grew up and Captain Hook is your arch nemesis."

Peter grunted and huffed while listening to her brief explanation, seemingly unimpressed. "Ahhh….well yes to answer your question, that's _his_ ship." He stated with a vague gesture towards the glittering blue water.

Emma glanced back out at the sea, feeling slightly awestruck by his confirmation, "Is he really as terrible and cruel as the stories make him out to be?"

Peter chuckled and the sound came out dark and unfamiliar to her ears. "I don't know about your stories Wendy, but I'm sure that whatever they say pales in comparison. He's worse...much worse. Don't worry though, I won't ever let him near you. He already took someone very special from me…and because of him…she's dead now...her cold corpse at the bottom of the sea he so loves."

At the blunt statement, Emma shivered, her blood running cold and chilling her veins. And taking a moment to consider his words, she shot a look over at him, staring at the lost boy who stood next to her—his fists clenched tight and chest heaving with emotion. "Hey…did you really take his hand?" she asked softly, changing the direction of the conversation just slightly.

Peter glanced down at the ship a sad look passing over his features before they hardened into an almost unrecognizable expression, and turning, he locked his dark gaze on hers while shaking his head slowly. "No…a crocodile did."

Turning the haunting words over in her mind, she gazed back out at the sea, a disquieting feeling settling over her as she noticed how the crashing waves called to her, their siren's song a tempting melody that echoed in her brain.

* * *

"How long have we been here?"

Emma sat on the beach, digging her toes into the grainy sand; she stared out at the sea, just barely making out the shape of the grand ship that always seemed to be lurking in the distance.

Peter frowned, his eyes narrowing as he seemingly considered how to answer her question. "Time moves differently here Wendy."

Emma glanced over at him, and gave him a half little smile, noting the way his eyes lingered on her as she did. She felt as if they'd been in Neverland for days, and since then he had begun to look at her differently—no longer as just one of the "lost boys". His gazes weren't merely friendly, but searching, something more meaningful lurked in their dark chocolate stare. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, uncertain whether she welcomed the change or not. Slowly she thought she was warming to the idea of having him see her in a different light...she had never really allowed herself to open up to thinking about boys in _that_ way. Growing up in the foster system she'd been too busy trying to survive—she hadn't the time to worry about kissing cute boys.

But here...things were different—she felt freer to explore her feelings...her femininity.

Bringing her attention back to the topic at hand, she brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, "What do you mean time moves differently?"

Peter shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by her question. "While it may feel like an entire day or two has passed here, back in your world maybe only a couple of hours have actually gone by. I'm not really sure how it works or how long we've been here."

Emma nodded, for some reason it made sense—she had figured as much.

And glancing back out at the sea, she noticed the imposing ship seemed to slowly be drawing closer to the shore.

* * *

The roaring fire's flames leapt to the sky as the lost boys danced around the camp, crowing and shouting into the darkness. Emma sat on a rock watching the festivities with a smile lighting her face as the steady glow of the fire danced across her features. Catching her eye, Peter smiled and walked over to her, sitting down besides her, he stretched his legs and settled back comfortably with a deep sigh.

After awhile of contented silence, save for the sounds of merriment around them, he turned to her and gave her a long hard look before staring back into the flames. "It feels right having you here." He said softly, almost uncertainly.

Emma grinned, tickled by how unsure he seemed, he looked so cute and lost and endearing. Leaning into him, she nudged him softly with the tip of her shoulder, "I like being here…it almost makes me forget about…you know…back _there_. Home."

A dark look passed over Peter's features and he turned to her quickly. "You don't have to go back there…you can stay here with us…forever."

"Peter—"

He cut her off quickly, his lips catching hers in a soft hesitant kiss, it was gentle and sweet and she smiled against his mouth before returning it tentatively, the sound of the lost boys cheering them on faded in the background and in the distance she could here the boom and roar of a ship's canons being fired.

* * *

"I can't stay here Peter."

"I know."

Emma, glanced out at the lagoon, watching as a handful of colorful birds gracefully flew from their perch in the water to a higher one in the lush green trees. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the feeling of the bright sun heating her skin. "You could come back with me…you left once, you could leave again."

Peter shook his head, his eyes downcast "But the lost boys…"

"We can visit them."

He glanced over at her, his fingers playing with the long blades of the the soft grass they sat in. "No…this was the last time. If I leave again, I'll be too old to come back…I'll be a grown-up."

"How old are you Peter?"

"Seventeen."

"I'm eighteen…doesn't that make _me_ a grown-up?" she asked cheekily in a playful tone.

Peter smiled, his grin charmingly mischievous. "That's _our_ secret Wendy."

She grinned back and turning her attention back to the lagoon, sighed as she saw a pretty butterfly flutter its way across their path.

They sat in contented silence for a moment or two before Peter turned his attention to her again, his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion. "Stay here Wendy. We'll never have to grow up, we could live here together and take care of the lost boys and—"

"Fight Captain Hook?" she teased.

Peter frowned, his eyes crinkling with the action; "I said I'd never let you near him."

Something inside Emma protested the statement but instead of commenting on it, she forced a tight smile, and reaching for his hand squeezed it, "I can't stay here forever Peter…everyone has to grow up sometime. Leave with me and we'll do it together."

"I can't leave."

"And I can't stay."

"Why?"

Emma shrugged, she couldn't explain it but she knew that she had to get back. Maybe it was because even after what felt like weeks in Neverland she still thought there was a very real possibility she was dreaming and there was a part of her subconscious that refused to go along with the fantasy any longer. But mostly it was because there was a deeper, stronger, more unsettling part of her that whispered she was needed back in the _real world_ , that she couldn't stay and play in Neverland forever.

"I have to get back Peter…I don't belong here."

Glancing back out at the lagoon, a sudden faraway look passed over Peter's features. "If I go back with you…you won't leave me?"

Emma smiled, her heart warming a bit at the scared boy who was so much like her and shaking her head slowly, she nearly sighed, her heart feeling light at the prospect of having someone in her life to call her own… _to trust completely._ "Never."

Peter studied her for a moment, reaching up he brushed a thumb over her cheek, grazing it gently and the sleepy butterflies in her stomach fluttered to life at the light touch. Smiling at her softly, he glanced behind him, seemingly considering something for a moment before looking back at her with an odd look glimmering in his brown eyes. "Let me go tell the rest of the lost boys."

Nodding, Emma made a move to stand, "I'll come with you."

But Peter stopped her with a shake of his head, "No don't. I need to do this on my own, I won't be long...stay here…close your eyes. Take a nap. I'll be back in a little bit Wendy."

"Emma."

"What?"

"My real name is Emma…Wendy—it's the name of the girl in the stories from my world...about you."

Peter stared at her a moment, his expression conveying mild confusion, masked slightly with irritation before he covered it with a surprised laugh. "Emma." Continuing to look down at her, his expression softened even more. "Go to sleep, I'll come back for you soon."

Her eyes already heavy, Emma looked up at him with a tiny smirk, "Promise?"

His returning grin was the only answer he gave her and settling back into the grass she felt their earlier adventures of the day begin to catch up on her. And as she floated off to sleep, the soft breeze picked up slightly, causing her hair to drift up and flutter lightly across her face, vaguely reminding her of billowing sails in the wind, and with that thought dancing in her brain she fell asleep…a tiny smile dusting across her lips.

* * *

"Peter!" She screamed, her throat hoarse, her legs aching, and her mind tired.

He hadn't come back.

He had left her.

She was alone.

When he had first left to find the lost boys, she had fallen asleep in the grass like he had told her to and when she had awoken it had been dark—the lagoon eerily silent. Confused and frightened, she had spent the night searching for him, desperate to find him but to no avail. The mysteries of Neverland had become terrifying and threatening in the cloak of darkness. Alone and with no one to lead her to safety; the magical place had lurked with ominous possibilities, the wondrous creatures she had intently watched during the day had suddenly become hungry and dangerous predators desperate for a taste of her blood. Many times she had been forced to muffle her screams—the sounds that she had enjoyed and reveled in when running around in the forest with Peter and the boys in tow had become strange and daunting under the guise of night, closing in on her at a frightening pace.

Afraid and too tired to search any further, she had collapsed on the hard ground of the forest floor in a fit of exhaustion. Unwillingly falling into a restless sleep on the heels of a whispered prayer, she had furiously wished Peter would find her while she slept—waking her up, he would make fun of her for wandering so far, before grabbing her hand and taking her home.

But unfortunately she wasn't a lucky person...her prayers had gone unanswered.

The next day had proved to be just as cruel—Peter still nowhere to be found. Concern had set in…maybe something had happened to him she had worried, while in the back of her mind she had known the cold hard truth. Aside from the sea, Peter Pan knew every inch of Neverland, he was as familiar with it as he was the back of his hand. If she couldn't find him or the lost boys it was because he was choosing for her not to. Still, unwilling to give up, she had roamed the island, continuing to shout for Peter, for the lost boys, for anyone who would listen...

But no one answered.

She was alone

_She was alone._

He had left her.

And she wondered if he had abandoned her because she had asked him to stay with her—to leave Neverland and grow up with her by his side. It was a cruel truth that hurt too much to even consider.

As darkness fell upon Neverland once again, Emma had found a tiny cave and had crawled into it. Hungry and alone she had fallen asleep with tears streaking down her face and anger bubbling in her gut. Her heart, which during her short time with Peter had felt so free and light, hardened coldly and she vowed that if she ever got out of the strange land alive she'd never trust a living soul again. Sleep had not come to her easily—fear of being devoured by the creatures that lurked outside her small alcove was much stronger than exhaustion.

The next morning and most of the day proved to be much similar to the last, hungry, tired, scared, and alone, she had wandered Neverland's forests and fields looking for any sign of the lost boys or their brave and fearless leader. Again her attempts had proved futile and eventually she had just given up all together, wandering around silently wondering how death would find her in a place so mysterious and beautiful.

Her wanderings had eventually brought her to the sea.

Sitting on the beach, her tired body ached as frustration and betrayal simmered inside of her, threatening to boil over. Her face was streaked with long ago shed tears, and her heart was heavy as the slow and final realization of Peter's desertion hit her hard.

He wasn't coming back for her.

She really was going to die in Neverland.

And as the thought crossed her mind, a sudden sliver of hope weaseled its way into her brain…maybe she really was dreaming, maybe this had all been a long incredibly drawn out nightmare. On a desperate whim she pinched herself harshly, her nails biting into her skin, nearly drawing blood. Hissing in pain when the action did nothing but mark her pale skin with an angry red welt, she felt what was left of her self-control fade away and slamming her fists into the ground, she yelled out her frustration on a string of angry broken curses.

"Damn you Peter!" She screamed, her voice breaking as her echo rang out into the eerily silent night. "PETER!"

No one answered, her voice fading in the wind.

She hadn't expected any less.

Lying back on the sand, she glanced up at the sky that glittered with thousands of twinkling stars and watching as the moon slowly rose above her, she sobbed silently into the darkness, feeling more afraid and alone than she had ever felt in her entire miserable life.

And it was with a sad little sigh and a final few tears that her mind began to slip, giving into the impending exhaustion even as her eyes struggled to remain open, refusing to accept imminent defeat.

But her efforts were futile and soon her body conceded—the scent of the sea and the silhouette of a looming ship was the last thing she tiredly acknowledged before her body gave up and she slipped away into merciful unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2: Hook _and Emma_**

_ Portland Oregon, Early November 2001 _

"Hey? Hey! Can you hear me?"

The voice was low and quiet, muffled only by the roaring in her ears—she could just barely make out the concern laced in the slightly erratic tone. As it called out to her again, Emma cringed, unable to bring herself to answer—her entire body felt as if it were on fire and her head pounded, brutally sending shock waves of pain shooting down her spine. Vaguely she could feel gentle fingers on her; touching her, almost as if attempting to reassure and comfort her. But the hands were foreign and cold and unwanted. Dimly she registered the feeling of something at her lips and she moved her head away quickly, her fuzzy mind screaming a warning.

"You've been in an accident, help is on the way. Drink this, it will help with the pain."

Before she could protest, she felt more pressure against her lips while calloused fingers pinched her nose, forcing her mouth open. On a gasp a cold bitter liquid was poured into her mouth and swallowing some of it, she abruptly turned away, spitting as much of it out as she could manage. A sigh of defeat reached her ears, and opening her eyes, Emma glanced up and found herself looking into a vaguely familiar brown gaze. She couldn't exactly pinpoint how she knew it and as she struggled to find the answer, her head began to swim and her eyes lost focus for a moment. Colorful memories surfaced before fading to black again. She cursed silently at the unsettling feeling and it was with the oath that a swift wave of recognition crashed down on her again—tauntingly it lingered for a moment, and then, like before, her mind drifted blank, everything hazy and dim.

"Did you swallow any of it?"

Emma ignored the question, and struggling to remember where she was and what had happened to her, she gasped as something familiar flashed before her eyes, bringing with it a swift pang of loss and a burning wave of longing. "Neverland." she whispered, watching as the brown eyes went wide.

And noting the sirens and flashing lights in the background, she closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness once again, the smell of the sea invading her senses.

* * *

__ Neverland- some time ago _   
_

Emma opened her eyes. She was cold, wet, and her entire body hurt. As her mind struggled to fully regain consciousness, her heart pounded painfully—dim awareness set in and she shivered uncomfortably with chill. Sitting up quickly, a wave of dizziness washed over her and she winced while shaking her head, trying her hardest to clear her hazy brain. Bringing a hand to her temples, she squeezed lightly, gasping as unfocused memories rushed to the forefront of her brain and unwanted images flashed before her eyes.

_Peter._

Desperately she hoped everything—Neverland, Peter, his desertion, had all been a dream. A nightmare. A mental breakdown. Anything other than reality.

"Are you hurt?"

The question wasn't asked in an overly concerned tone, rather the voice was bored, a hint of annoyance laced through it. Shooting her gaze up at the sound, Emma's eyes landed on a tall figure standing over her and glancing around she realized she was indoors, sitting on a bed, the smell of the sea and the gentle lapping sounds of water lingering in the room.

"What the hell?" she murmured.

"My thoughts exactly lass."

Bringing her attention back to the figure above her, she focused on him a moment, giving her eyes some time to adjust to the poor lighting. He was a startlingly attractive man. Dressed impeccably in black—his hair dark and eyes light; the intensity of his stare caused her heart to pick up in pace and her mouth to go dry.

"Where—where am I? Who are you?" she rasped, fear edging its way into her mind as she studied her surroundings.

Her gut told her she was on a ship.

Her mind realistically argued otherwise.

Only one ship roamed the seas of Neverland.

_She was not in Neverland._

"Well love, seeing as though my men found you lying like a dead fish on the beach, with the tide threatening to carry you away, I think perhaps I should be the one asking questions eh? And my question for you is...where in the bloody hell did you come from?"

_The beach._

_His men._

Emma's eyes shot downwards and seeing the silver gleam of a pointed hook, she gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. "You're—Captain Hook?" She nearly laughed as the words escaped her lips, her grasp on reality slowly fading away. And here she had briefly hoped it had all been a dream, a psychotic breakdown—Neverland a figment of her imagination.

He chuckled at her whispered revelation, it was a dark sound, and it rippled down her spine in waves. "Heard of me have ya? Well you'd be correct my dear…Captain Killian 'Hook' Jones, at your service." He lowered himself in a mock bow, his overly exaggerated gesture hitting a nerve—she just barely bit back a sneer, while attempting not to roll her gaze to the ceiling.

He must have seen something flash in her eyes though and his mouth lifted into a knowing grin. "Spirited little imp aren't you?"

She chose to ignore him and instead raised a brow. "I need to go. I have to find a way home.

Bringing his good hand to his chin, the captain played with his scruff, studying her in a way that made her blood boil. "I think not."

Emma frowned at his words, her eyes narrowing with the effort. "What? Why? Am I your prisoner?"

Hook smiled down at her darkly. "That's yet to be determined love, although I can assure you that my women tend to come to me willingly enough…unless of course they _prefer_ the role of a prisoner." He gave her a quick wink and his eyes flashed with a devilish gleam as they roamed over her soaked figure. Disgusted by his implications, she found herself glaring up at him with all the hatred she could muster, vaguely remembering some of the awful stories Peter had told her about the man.

"I am _not_ your woman." She hissed at him even as a voice in her head warned her to reign in her temper.

Fortunately for her, his grin merely widened at her sharp words. "Again, that has yet to be determined. Now usually I don't like to repeat myself but considering your current state of _distress_ …" he let his voice linger on the last word, allowing it to hang in the air, "I'm going to ask again… _where_ did you come from?"

With a sigh she shook her head slowly, "Pan—Peter. He—he brought me here." She stuttered, her brain still silently rejecting the idea that any of _this_ was real.

Something hot sparked in Hook's icy blue eyes before it faded out and was replaced with a cool level glare. "Hmmm quite interesting. So you come from another world then?"

Emma shrugged, her head hurt. "I guess…yeah."

"One without magic?"

She huffed out a breath, annoyed with the dark pirate's line questioning, "Maybe...I mean I think so."

"What's your name, love?"

She swallowed, her name on the tip of her tongue, but changing her mind quickly she blurted out a different one instead, "Wen—Wendy," she whispered, nearly wincing at her ridiculous alias.

He raised an eyebrow at that, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Ahhh _Wend_ y is it?"

She merely shrugged delicately at his humored inquiry.

He grinned at her silently flippant response, his teeth flashing a bright white. "Why lass, has anyone ever told you that you're a dreadful liar?"

Annoyed, Emma narrowed her eyes at him, "Why? Do you know any _other_ Wendy's?"

Shaking his head, amusement still clear on his features, he chuckled softly the sound was low, deep, and slightly intoxicating. "No _Wendy_ darling…you are the first I've met."

She said nothing else, his laugh gently echoing in her brain, and with the sound something inside of her stirred.

* * *

She hated his cabin.

She hated his ship.

She hated him.

Emma looked over at Hook as he laid on his bed watching her—he seemed to thoroughly enjoy her constant pacing; an amused grin was plastered on his face as she walked the length of his room.

"I want to leave."

"No."

She huffed a sigh and began pacing again. "How long have I been here?"

"Days."

His one word answers were infuriating. "Why? Why am I here Hook?"

He raised a dark brow, her voice was bordering on whining, "Good question love, I haven't a bloody clue why you're here. But you're staying on my ship until I can figure out what the devil I'm going to do with you...although..." his eyes burned into hers and his tongue swept out over his lower lip lightly as his gaze raked over her body slowly, "I can think of a few things that could pass the time… _pleasurably_ might I add."

"You're disgusting."

Hook merely laughed, "Pirate." And pushing himself off the bed he made his way towards the door, purposely brushing his body against hers as he passed her. Stopping just short of leaving the room, he glanced back at her, "you're rather fetching now that you don't resemble a drowned rat...my men haven't seen a pretty face in ages and pirate's ship is a dangerous place for a slip of a girl like you. Do yourself a favor and listen to me...stay in my cabin."

Swallowing over the lump of fear that had formed in her throat, Emma bit her lip. "And—and how do I know I'm safe with you?"

The dark look he flashed her was a terrifying combination of hunger and wickedness and tilting his head to the side, he gave her a humorless smile. "You're not."

He left the room, his haunting words echoing ominously in her brain, her femininity reluctantly enlightened.

* * *

The ship's gentle rhythms were becoming soothingly familiar—the sounds of the water, the smells of the sea. They called to her, sneaking into her tiny prison and threatening to ensnare her while tempting her to _forget._

Terrified, she tried to resist the urge to give in, remembering there was a place she needed to return to.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma looked up at the sounds of the door being unlocked and opened. Watching as Hook quietly entered the room, she sighed softly. "You can't keep me here forever."

Walking over to his desk he placed a tray of food down and glancing over at her, leaned against the large table—the look he shot her was incredulous with a hint of amusement flashing in his blue eyes. "I really don't think that's your call to make lass. I can do whatever I want with you."

She sighed, the sound coming out more defeated than she would have liked, "Let me go upstairs, I can't stand being locked away in here anymore. I need fresh air."

"I took you above deck this morning don't be ungrateful love. Despite what you may think of me, I'm actually keeping you down here for your own good. Most of my men are trustworthy—they follow my orders, but I'm not daft enough to think there aren't a few bad seeds. Once they see a pretty little poppet like yourself…they might not be able to help themselves…and I doubt very much you'd be able to fight off the advances of a pirate love."

Even as chills ran down her body at his implications she couldn't help the tiny smirk that dusted her lips. "I've done just fine fighting off yours _Captain._ "' she stated, her tone challenging.

Hook's gaze darkened and his lips turned up into a rueful smile. "Swan, I haven't even begun to attempt to get you into my bed." Lazily he glanced down at the mattress she sat on and his smile widened. "Figuratively speaking of course."

She knew he was waiting for a reaction, she knew he often got some sick enjoyment out of seeing her blush red and falter for words. But she was barely listening, her mouth had dropped open and her wide eyes searched his face. "How did you—why did you call me that?" She whispered slowly, her voice trembling slightly, "Swan? Why did you call me _that?"_

He peered at her curiously, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her. Wordlessly he walked over to where she sat and reaching out with his hook, lifted the delicate necklace that was nestled snugly against her chest. "I was merely referring to this love," he said easily, his voice holding a hint of inquiry.

Emma glanced down, her eyes focusing on the jewelry. She had found the intriguing swan necklace years ago in a secondhand shop and had instantly felt drawn to it. When she had realized she hadn't the money to buy it…she'd lifted it instead.

"Oh," was all she said, feeling silly for thinking he'd actually guessed her name.

Giving her a strange look, he dropped the necklace—even after it fell back in place, his cool hook lingered near her chest. "It suits you…the necklace…and the name."

She didn't say anything at that, and quickly he backed away from her, gesturing to the food he had brought her. "Eat. As always feel free to wander about the room…but do not step a foot outside this door."

As he made his way out of the cabin he turned and looking back at her, his eyes held hers for a moment, a warning glimmering in their blue depths.

* * *

She had just wanted some fresh air.

Emma watched in horror as Hook pummeled his fist into the face of the man lying on the floor, the latter was hardly conscious—his moans and wheezing breaths could barely be heard above the roar of the sneering and cackling crew.

"Stop!" She screamed, her eyes growing wide as he spun from where he was beating the man to within an inch of his life, turning his narrowed blue gaze on her.

 _"You."_ Hook spat, his eyes flashing, "I haven't even begun to deal with you. Go to my cabin and lock the door, I'll be down when I've finished with _this_."

Fear shot through her body fast as Hook turned from her to continue beating the crewmember, and without giving it a second thought, Emma ran towards him quickly, grabbing his arm as he pulled it back in preparation for another angry blow. Whipping around, a livid scowl distorting his usually devastatingly handsome features, Hook shook her grip off him. And in a move so fast she hadn't the time to react, he turned on her. Pushing her backwards, he pinned her hard against the railing, his body pressing heavily into hers.

"You dare defy me again in front of my crew?" he hissed, his voice dripping with barely concealed rage as his namesake dug into her chin forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to kill him!" she shouted up at him, meeting his livid glare with a furious one of her own.

"I wouldn't be in this position if you had just listened to me and stayed in my cabin…you stupid little _fool_." Emma blanched at that, her chest heaving as Hook pressed his body further into hers causing her back to push painfully against the railing. "Do you know what he planned on doing to you love? Do you know how long it's probably been since that rat has had a woman, willing or otherwise? Maybe I should have let him have his way with you. Maybe that would have taught you a _lesson."_

She sucked in a breath, hot tears slipped out of her eyes as his cruel words hung in the air, and she hated herself for crying in front of him. But even more so she hated him—she truly despised him with every fiber of her being.

"I hate you," she whispered softly, her gaze leaving his, she looked up towards Neverland's vast night sky, not caring what consequences it would bring.

But he said nothing at her defiance; his answering dark chuckle was cruel punishment enough.

* * *

She was bored.

The rope that bound her to his bed was itchy, it's knot intricate.

Emma tugged on it uselessly, her attempt somewhat halfhearted. She'd been tied up for what felt like days, Hook only undoing the knots for her to relieve herself, splash some water on her face, and occasionally to walk around his cabin to stretch her legs for a bit. Making a face she glared at him as he sat at his desk, swirling an amber liquid in the tumbler he held, while watching her with a smug look on his dark features.

"Why are you even here anyway? Peter said you had left Neverland a while ago. Why did you come back?"

"A witch sent me on an errand." At Emma's raised brow Hook only smirked, continuing his explanation, "I'm trying to get to your world love, but in order to do that I need a portal. And a little pixie informed me that a wardrobe exists here...created by the gnomes. It's much like one that existed some time ago in my land. And that gnome-made wardrobe will give me and the witch access to a world without magic...to my crocodile."

"Peter said the pixies showed you a portal in the sea, why do you need this one?"

"Aye that they did, but that portal only goes between Neverland and the Enchanted Forest. Your Peter must have failed to mention that Swan."

Emma scowled, annoyed that he kept unknowingly using her real name, "he's not _my_ Peter."

"Oh no? My apologies."

She rolled her eyes and said nothing, uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

Hook chuckled at her reaction, clearly amused by her obvious discomfort. "You've got so many walls built up lass, it would lead one to think...love has been all to rare in your life hasn't it?"

He was playing games with her, she had quickly come to realize getting a rise out of her was one of his favorite things to do.

Undisturbed by her silence, he leaned forward in his chair. "Have you ever even been in love?"

Emma lifted her gaze to the ceiling, wanting nothing more than for him to stop talking, "I'm only eighteen." At his blank expression she sighed, "no I have never been in love." Unfortunately for her, he looked somewhat unconvinced and before he could question her further, she glanced down at his rolled up sleeve. Looking back up at him, she met his pale stare, "Who's Milah…in the tattoo?"

Hook's gaze faltered and briefly his eyes dropped to his arm, shaking his sleeve down to cover the tattoo he looked away from her, "someone from long ago."

Observing the odd note of sadness that crept into his voice, Emma stared at him hard, "Where is she?"

Annoyance flashed across his face, "she's gone."

Curious by the change in his demeanor, the misery that lurked in his gaze, the way he clearly didn't want to talk about the topic at hand—Emma studied him, watching as he took a long swig of his drink. "The crocodile…he took more than your hand from you didn't he? That's why you want to get to my world…that's why you want to kill him."

Hook looked at her a moment, his stormy blue eyes warring with both anger and acceptance at her words. "For someone who's never been in love your quite perceptive aren't you?

At his statement Emma's stomach dropped and reluctantly she thought about her earlier days in Neverland—running around the forest and chasing pretty creatures, swimming in the crystalline waters, and laughing while telling stories with the lost boys. Stolen kisses under the moonlit sky, and kind brown eyes, always a constant, always by her side. And her heart _ached_ at the memories that seemed to have taken place over a lifetime ago. She recalled the feeling of hope she had felt, the longing to trust someone. Biting her lip, she forced the memories away and stubbornly held back tears—she had made a promise to herself awhile ago she'd never cry in front of the infuriating captain again.

"Maybe I was once…or had the potential to be," she whispered softly, playing with the knot that bound her hands.

His answering hum reassured her that the conversation was over, they had both said too much that night.

* * *

She felt as if she was forgetting herself, forgetting about the _real world_. Long ago she had given up on hoping Neverland was a figment of her imagination, but she had yet to give up on leaving.

"Seriously, you can't keep me tied to your bed forever." Emma said, huffing out a breath and pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"You know there are women who'd beg to be in your position darling."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, her heart unwillingly picking up in pace as he stared her down from his casual stance in the doorway. "I'm going crazy like this. What's the point in keeping me here…what are you going to do with me anyway?"

Hook grinned brightly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes, "Oh love, there are a number of things I'd like to do to you."

"You're a pig."

His smile merely widened at her biting words and walking over to his desk, he glanced down at a map, rapping his knuckles across it absently. "I'm getting my wardrobe Swan, and then bringing it and _you_ back to the Enchanted Forest with me."

Hearing his intentions, Emma's heart sank while her mind protested angrily. Again, like when she had been with Peter, something deep inside of her screamed that she had to get back to her world, whispered that she was needed there. "I can't go back there with you. Hook, I don't belong in Neverland and I certainly don't belong in the Enchanted Forest. I have to go _home_."

Looking at her, Hook considered her carefully before slowly making his way over to the bed. Standing above her, his eyes sought hers, blue and searching. There was a gentleness in his gaze that she'd never seen before and it nearly took her breath away. After a moment or two of tense silence, he gave her a lopsided smile, before reaching down and brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder with the tip of his hook. And she shuddered at the feeling while simultaneously trying to convince herself it was repulsion rather than _something else_ that brought on the reaction.

"I think I'd quite like to keep you." He said softly, his voice holding a hint of surprise.

Shock filtered into her system at his words and she shook her head near desperately, not allowing her body a chance to react to the statement. "Don't be ridiculous…I have to go home!" Her voice wavered slightly while her head continued to spin with his simple confession.

"And how, pray tell _Wendy_ darling, do you plan on getting home?"

Emma sighed, whenever he used her alias, he made sure to exaggerate it, just enough, almost as if he wanted her to know that he was well aware it was a ridiculous fake. "I don't know Hook…I haven't figured it out…but—but you can't keep me here forever."

He said nothing at that, his unyielding stare telling her all she needed to know.

* * *

"Swan!"

Emma raced through the thick forest, her eyes squinting in the darkness; the soft moonlight filtered through the trees providing only a dim and dull glow to light her way. Looking behind her, Emma gasped for breath, the sound of twigs breaking and furious shouted curses urging her forward as her purser continued to gain on her fast. Desperate, her eyes shot out in front of her, searching frantically for something, _anything_ , that could possibly conceal her from Hook's looming wrath.

"Swan I swear to the gods when I get my hands on you!"

Pushing aside her fear, Emma barreled forward, relying on her speed to carry her further away from the angry pirate. She knew he was furious. She had expected no less; breaking a jeweled mirror she had conveniently hidden under a pillow during one of the few times Hook had allowed her freedom in his cabin, she had finally cut her way out of the ropes he'd tied her in. Desperate for freedom, she had managed to sneak off the docked ship, making it to shore before he or his men had ever even realized she was gone.

She almost scoffed at how easy it had been for her to escape.

Some pirate crew.

Ducking behind a tree, she held her breath, straining her ears and eyes for any sign or sound of him. When she heard a twig snap next to her, terror bubbled up inside of her, but before she could make a move to run, a light powder was thrown in her face and her mind instantly became foggy, her eyelids heavy.

And as she drifted off into a reluctant sleep, she could hear the captain's angry cries echoing throughout the trees.

"SWAN!"

* * *

Emma's eyes struggled to open as her head helplessly rolled to the side. She'd been in and out for hours, days, weeks…she wasn't entirely certain—one never was in Neverland. It didn't help that each time she roused to her senses, a strange little creature, with beady eyes and foul smelling breath came up to her and despite her protests, she'd find herself inhaling the same light powder she had the night she'd fled Hook. The results of the strange drug were always the same—her body shut down abruptly as sleep found her quickly.

Whatever they were using on her she was surprised she hadn't overdosed yet.

Opening her eyes fully, she took in the sights before her, trying to remain as still as possible so as not to alert her captors. Scanning her surroundings her eyes focused on the brilliant blue Neverland sky, shadowed only by the gentle sway of towering leafy trees. The soft rushing sounds of a waterfall trickled in the distance and the melodic notes of mermaids singing drifted to her ears. They were constantly on the move. The last time she had woken up, they had been on a beach:a roaring fire warming her cool body, the sounds of her troll like captors talking quietly in the background. Thinking of the different places she had woken up, a frown pulled at her lips—she was less likely to be rescued if they didn't stay in one place. And the thought no sooner crossed her mind when a nearly sinister smile twisted on her lips—because really, who would save her?

_Peter?_

_Hook?_

She was alone.

A small miserable sigh escaped her lips, and she winced at the tiny sound. Instantly a wrinkled ugly face hovered over her, and like every other time before, the powder was thrown in her face.

In the distance she heard the familiar sounds of voices crowing, the distinct clang of swords clashing. And the smell of rum and sea hung in the air.

* * *

She was tied to a chair in a cave like structure, the walls and ceiling a shiny brown rock, the atmosphere cool and damp, the smell musty and stifling.

She was alone.

Quite literally—her captors seemed to have deserted her in the glistening cave littered with objects thrown haphazardly across the floor. Her jail was a messy collection of treasures, junk, and rocks. Realizing she may not have much time before the ugly creatures returned, Emma began working on the knots at her wrists, putting all of her concentration and effort into it. But her limbs still heavy from the powder, prevented her from making much progress and she angrily cursed into the empty echoing cave.

"Miss me darling?"

At the sound of his voice, Emma's gaze shot up, her eyes immediately colliding with an icy blue stare matched with an infuriatingly familiar smirk.

"Hook...you...you found me," she breathed, equal amounts of fear, relief and surprise flooding through her veins.

Staring at her intently, he cocked his head to the side, his eyes never leaving hers, "Always."

Something warm and welcoming spread through her body at that one word, and she was helpless to do anything but stare, her head refusing to turn, her eyes unwilling to look away. She was trapped—the sudden heat of his scorching gaze nearly unbearable.

Finally, with a quick shake of his head, he looked away from her, a slight frown forming on his lips. Slowly he walked around the cave, his good hand resting on the hilt of his sword as his eyes roamed freely, taking in the sight of the numerous valuables and treasures scattered about them. Walking over to an opened chest, he picked up a gold coin and bringing it up to his nose, inhaled; closing his eyes briefly as if the scent was the sweetest he had ever smelled. Bringing his attention back to her, his mouth twitched up into another smirk.

"What have you gotten yourself into lass?"

She sighed, annoyance creeping up on her fast, "Isn't it obvious, I was escaping _you_." she answered with a shrug, feigning nonchalance.

"A fine job you did...gone and got yourself captured by gnomes."

Emma raised a brow, "Is that what they are?"

"Aye. You know, I should be furious with you, but seeing as though you led me straight to my wardrobe I may be a bit more forgiving."

"Figures," she mumbled, irritated that she had unknowingly helped him. And as the fact resonated in her brain, a small part of her wanted to laugh— _of course_ her misfortune had benefited him. Feeling frustrated and slightly cheated she shot him a glare, "are you going to untie me or did you just come here to brag before leaving me to rot in this cave?"

Hook walked over to her slowly, his movements fluid and calculated, "Such a pretty face, I would hate to see it go to waste."

"Thanks."

Stopping in front of her, he lowered himself so that he was level with her and as he tilted her chin up with his good hand, she fought not to pull away. It was a challenge to show no reaction—the warmth of his fingers on her skin heated her entire body, the coolness of his blue eyes stole her breath. "What is your name?" His voice was gruff, but she could detect the barest hint of desperation in his tone.

"Emma." It never even occurred to her to lie to him this time, her name tumbled past her lips without hesitation, her eyes never left his.

"Emma." He said it once, his voice gentle and full of something that closely resembled awe—the sound causing her to involuntarily shiver. Lifting his hook, he brought it down to her ropes but just before he cut through them he stopped abruptly. "I thought I'd lost you...you foolish girl."

She bit her lip, the slight anguish in his tone startling her, "I didn't think you'd come for me...I didn't think you'd find me."

Slicing the ropes, he stood quickly, pulling her with him as he did. Once she was steady on her feet, she looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to release her from his hold. Instead he drew her even closer to him, gently he brushed a lock of hair away from her face, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned towards her. Settling his mouth against her ear, she closed her eyes as his breath tickled her neck.

"I'll always find you Emma."

Her heart skipped a beat at the whispered words and awareness settled over her as something sleepily stirred to life inside her, making its presence known in cool and comforting waves. And closing her eyes she allowed herself to lean into him ever so slightly, his scent enveloping her completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma's story up next...


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_**Part 3: Emma and Killian** _

_Portland, Oregon Early November 2001_

Emma's eyes fluttered open and she immediately winced with the effort. Her body felt stiff, her limbs heavy—dull aching pain consumed her. There was a soft annoying beeping noise next to her head and she could hear the gentle murmurings of hushed voices somewhere nearby. Glancing around, she realized with some surprise that she was in a hospital. Panic quickly welled up inside of her as her brain struggled to remember what had happened to land her there. But before anxiety could get the best of her, a quiet voice knocked her out of her puzzled shock.

"Hey you're up…I'll call for the doctor."

Emma turned her head to the side, her muscles protesting with the effort as she let her eyes fall on a boy who sat in a chair next to her bed. He was young, about her age, with kind brown eyes that were swimming with barely masked concern. A flash of recognition swept into her brain for a moment before it quickly fled, leaving with it nothing but a trail of questions.

"I hope you stay awake this time." At her silence he grinned at her, "you were in a car accident, you've been in and out. Hit your head pretty badly…cracked a few ribs…got some nasty bruises...I guess you're lucky that's it. You looked pretty messed up." His tone was friendly and easy as if he hadn't just delivered her some pretty jacked up information. Reaching over to the table next to him, he grabbed a pitcher of water and pouring her a cup, offered it to her with a smile.

She took it wordlessly, cringing with the slight movement and holding the cup to her lips, stared at him hard. "Who are you?" her voice came out scratchy, the raspy sound barely recognizable to her ears.

A variety of emotions flashed across the stranger's face, relief, regret, sadness, before he masked them with a warm smile. "You don't remember?"

Emma sat back in the bed—her brain was so foggy and hazy it hurt to think. "No, no I don't remember anything. The last thing I can clearly remember is… _God_ my birthday…how long ago was that? What's today's date?" A brief moment of clarity registered in her suddenly—she remembered his kind face and an extended hand. But just as abruptly as it came, it was lost, fading away fast. "Wait…I…um were you there?"

A look of slight wariness crossed over his features but he quickly replaced it with another smile. "That's the night we met."

"Oh huh…umm I don't think I remember."

The boy smiled brightly and leaned towards her slightly, a mischievous look flashing in his dark brown eyes. Something inside of her perked up at the sight, whispered that she _knew_ that look but before she could place it—it was gone again.

"You tried to steal my car."

Emma felt her eyes widen while her mouth dropped open at his words. "I…um…" she wracked her brain for the memory, dull images of sitting on her bed at home, depressed and upset about the state of her life flashed in front of her and then after that, everything was hazy and blurred around the edges…she remembered nothing.

She wanted to argue with him, she wanted to cry foul, call him out for messing with her. Stealing a car was a big deal. Would she have risked that? But as his accusation sunk in she closed her eyes for a moment. Even though her brain was fuzzy—she couldn't forget how miserable she'd been that night…how horribly she had wanted to get away from her foster family. And if she were being completely honest with herself—she knew how to wire a car…one of her foster brother's had taught her when she was fourteen and living in the city. The notion that she had tried to get the heck out of dodge by stealing a car wasn't something she could honestly say surprised her.

"Um I'm sorry?" she said, the words coming out as a question. She couldn't help but wonder why he was sitting by her bedside if she had tried to rip him off.

"Nah, don't worry about it…I wasn't too upset."

She narrowed her eyes surprised by his words. "You weren't?"

He shrugged and gave her a little smile; "no…I had stolen it before you."

Emma stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening as she processed what he'd told her. Shaking her head, she could barely contain her disbelieving laugh. "That's—that's ridiculous."

Settling back into his chair, he played with the cuff of his sweatshirt for a moment before glancing back up at her. "So you wanna hear our story?"

Gingerly, Emma leaned even further back into the bed, quirking her lips up into a sardonic smile, she shrugged. Clearly she had the time. "Why not...how about you start by telling me your name."

He nodded, his demeanor relaxed and comfortable, "Neal."

Something low in her gut clenched at that. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, and tired and curious, she pushed the feeling away and trained her eyes on him, listening as he recounted the rather amusing details of their new and unconventional relationship.

And even as she laughed and smiled at the stories he told her, only half of her was truly listening. The other half was attempting to place a strange little tune that was softly playing in her head while trying to figure out why images of a vast blue ocean and a ship's sails flapping in the wind lingered in her thoughts.

* * *

_Neverland, some time ago_

_A gypsy rover came over the hill_  
Down through the valley so shady.  
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang  
And he won the heart of a lady.

_She left her father's castle gate._  
She left her own fine lover.  
She left her servants and her state  
To follow her gypsy rover…

Emma stood on the deck watching as Hook leaned over the railing, looking out at the sea that shone with the reflection of the shimmering stars and far off planets of Neverland's endless night sky. A bottle of rum in his hand, the soft song lazily spilled from his lips—his voice low, smooth, and hypnotizing. The gentle notes of the rhyme filtered to her ears, and she closed her eyes for a moment enjoying the sound.

"I should tie you back to my bed for being so insolent."

Her eyes snapped open fast while heat quickly spread through her body at his softly spoken words. Looking up she saw he was no longer gazing out at the water but had turned away from it—his attention solely focused on her.

"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly, carefully. Moving to take a step towards him, she hesitated, and rethinking it, stayed where she was.

Since returning from the gnome's cave with both her and his wardrobe in possession he'd been different—his behavior somewhat distant while his actions were less severe. He hadn't locked her in his cabin like she had originally feared upon returning to his ship. Rather, he'd done the opposite—bringing her on deck more often, even letting her share meals and mingle a bit with the crew who although quite rough around the edges weren't all that bad; if the foul language, wandering eyes, innuendos, and overall bad manners were overlooked.

"You couldn't sleep, so you decided to take a turn about my ship in the dead of night?" His voice was slightly incredulous but the humor in his tone far outweighed the hint of anger that lurked there.

She lifted her chin and raised a brow, "Yes."

Abandoning his rum, he pushed away from the railing, and as he made his way over to her, she was briefly struck by the grace with which he moved. "Emma love, don't you know pirates prowl this very ship?"

Her mouth inched upwards into a smirk, while a blush warmed her cheeks; it still threw her off to hear him call her by name. "So I've been told."

He stopped directly in front of her, so that they were close… _too close_. But she refused to back away, even as his body brushed up just slightly against hers and his eyes, appearing almost black in the night, stared down at her hard. "You are an infuriating little imp…have I ever told you that?"

"Once or twice...your men like me."

"That's what I fear darling."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not afraid of them…I don't think they'd do anything."

He reached out with his good hand and picked up a lock of her hair, and holding it in his grip, tugged on it gently. "Aye, they know better than to lay a finger on you…I've made the consequences of such an action quite clear."

She let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way her body seemed to hum in anticipation as his fingers continued to play with the ends of her hair. Slowly they moved down, trailing across her bare arm, his stroke feather light, almost innocent. And as his touch swept over her, she found herself frozen, unable to move as his fingers danced up and down her skin. Gradually, he brought his hand under her chin and gripped it lightly, brushing the pad of his thumb over her near trembling lips, he leaned in towards her, causing her breath to come in sharply.

"Perhaps it's not them you should be worried about."

It took everything in her power to look away, and even then she could still feel the heat of his gaze and the brush of his fingers awakening something terrifying inside of her.

* * *

The warm breeze whipped through her hair, sending loose golden strands dancing across her sun kissed face. Leaning against the mast, Emma stared out at the rough and raging sea, struck for a moment by its fierce beauty. Sighing contentedly she closed her eyes and breathing in the salty air, enjoyed the heavy sway of the grand and masterful ship. She loved when they sailed the exotic sea, it was exhilarating to feel the Jolly Roger crash through the angry waves while the wind rippled through its large billowing sails.

Opening her eyes again, she watched as the crew busied themselves around her, smiling a little as they sang some rough sailor's tune—the chorus she couldn't quite catch but based off the snickers and laughs she guessed it was unsurprisingly offensive. Continuing to take in the sights and sounds around her, she pondered her current situation with Hook and his men. She wasn't exactly sure what they were still doing in Neverland. With the wardrobe in Hook's possession she had thought and had feared that they would be departing for the Enchanted Forest soon. But with each rising and setting sun they remained in Neverland, the once desperate urge she had felt to get back home slowly fading into a passing longing.

And they didn't talk about it.

They carried on with their daily lives neither mentioning that she had a different world to get back to and he a deal with a sorceress to keep.

She had a feeling he was stalling, unsure what to do with her…hesitant to take her back to his land but aware she had no means to get home to hers. She didn't want to press the issue; she had fallen into a comfortable routine with the ship and its crew. No longer a prisoner—she secretly enjoyed life at sea.

Feeling the heat and awareness of someone's eyes on her, she looked up and seeing Hook standing in the middle of his crew, caught his eyes, blue and stormy staring at her with a thoughtful expression on his too attractive features. The intensity of his gaze, the gentle lift of his lips, had an involuntary shudder sweeping through her body fast.

But even so, this time she refused to look away. Instead she squared her shoulders and raised a brow, holding his stare in an unspoken challenge. And she couldn't help the slight feeling of victory that coursed through her when he inclined his head towards her and with a flash of a smile looked away, focusing on his men once again.

Returning her gaze to the sea she laughed softly, silently acknowledging that the day Hook had rescued her and they had returned to the Jolly Roger something had shifted and changed inside of her. Instead of feeling as if she were walking back to her prison…she had felt like she was coming home.

And closing her eyes she let her skin drink in the warm rays of the sun once more, ignoring the tiny cry of protest that lingered in her thoughts.

* * *

"What the devil is going on here?"

Emma looked up at the sound of his voice, noticing how the crew quickly parted to make way for their captain. He was like a god amongst mere mortals on his ship, radiating power and commanding attention. And Emma felt her brow furrow in slight annoyance at the oddly dramatic and overly romantic thought.

"Sword fighting." She said with a grin, wiggling the heavy weapon she held in her hand as he stopped a few feet away from her.

Amusement flashed across his features before it was quickly replaced with a stern unyielding look. "Good gods Emma my love…it's as if you're begging me to lock you away again. And I can see sword fighting is what you're _attempting_ …I'm just curious as to why."

Glancing around his crew he eyed them pointedly, his dark gaze sweeping over those that had gathered around them while she quietly looked down, trying her hardest to calm her breathing over his slight change in endearment. _My love…_ it was quite ridiculous for something so simple to affect her so much. While part of her was thrilled with the possessiveness of the pet name another more grounded part of her argued it was Hook—endearments and nicknames flew off his tongue easily and without thought. Taking in a deep shaking breath she pushed away the butterflies in her stomach and ignored the lightness in her head—mentally chiding herself for being so stupid.

"Any of you fools care to explain how the lass got her hands on a weapon?

Breaking from her thoughts, Emma looked up, watching as the smirking crew faltered for an answer. After a moment of silence, one of the burly pirates that Emma had quickly taking a liking to—with his soft-spoken voice and gentle manners—spoke up with a nearly toothless grin "Ahhh capn' she saw us swingin' our blades about and wanted to give it a try…she can't hurt nuttin."

Hook raised a brow at that, "yes well except herself." He murmured purposefully and directing his attention towards Emma, rolled his eyes—his face twisting into an expression of slight repulsion. "Bad form darling. Quit gripping it like you would a mallet."

She looked down at the sword she held and frowned. "It's comfortable this way."

"Yes well, I suppose it is, but you're not likely to win any duels holding it like _that_."

She laughed, "I don't think I'll be fighting any duels or slaying any dragons anytime soon Captain." She said teasingly, the crew chuckling lightly behind her.

"Will the lot of you quit acting like a bunch of besotted fools and get back to work." Hook barked but his voice lacked the usual venom it held when shouting orders at his men. As they retreated he glanced back over at her, his gaze idly raking over her body, before he drew his sword. "Well if you're so hell bent on running a muck on my ship, I might as well teach you a thing or two about wielding a sword myself."

Emma rolled her eyes, and raising her weapon attempted to mimic his stance, sighing when he merely shook his head in disgust and muttered a curse under his breath. And noting that being outside in the cool sea breeze with a sword in hand and her begrudgingly amused captain standing in front of her, she couldn't stop the wide smile that stretched across her lips.

It was the lightest she'd felt in weeks.

* * *

Neverland was rarely cold, but every so often the breeze would turn causing a slight chill to linger in the air.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms to ward off the goosebumps that were insisting on popping up across her skin, Emma breathed in the fresh ocean air, watching as the waves crashed and rolled onto the shore. Sitting on the beach with the rippling wind, the sounds of birds crowing and the water lapping, she couldn't help but think of Peter—the last time she had sat looking out at the sea with her toes in the sand she had been with him.

She had been happy and carefree.

She had felt hopeful.

Naive.

And now, as she spent more time with the pirate captain and his crew she wasn't sure what she felt. She was slightly lost and more than a little confused. She had spent restless nights tossing and turning in Hook's bed, the scent of him overwhelming her even though despite his suggestive remarks and scorching stares he hadn't actually slept in his cabin for weeks.

Underneath the hard and broken exterior: shockingly enough, there was a gentlemen.

A gentleman who drove her crazy, a gentleman who had the ability to make her want to pull her hair out while simultaneously throwing herself into his arms.

It was unnerving.

As something cold and wet rolled down her cheek, Emma momentarily broke from her reverie and reaching up, touched her skin. Pulling her hand back she stared at the glistening dampness hard, surprised when she realized that she'd been shedding silent tears. Rubbing the wetness between her thumb and forefinger she glanced back out at the sea, her thoughts heavy and her heart uncertain.

She was absolutely terrified by the intense feelings for the dark captain that were swirling inside of her.

She had to wonder how long they would fight what was going on between them. How long would they circle each other…how long would they both deny the change in their relationship? She felt as if they were both struggling to ignore it, grasping for some semblance of control. And for the most part it was easy to pretend. She still infuriated him of that she was certain. And he was still a smug bastard; with his over confident attitude and easy charm. But at the end of the day, she couldn't deny there was _something else_ there. Underneath all the innuendos, the flashing tempers, and quick retorts…something terrifying was simmering and taking shape.

And wiping away another tear, she smiled sadly, because deep down she knew the cause of all her inner turmoil.

It was more than sparks and heat—blatant suggestions and wandering eyes.

She was falling in love.

* * *

An entire day had passed without any sign or sound of him.

Emma stood in Hook's cabin, brushing her hair while thoughtfully looking down at the map that was sprawled out on his desk—the land was foreign, the names intriguing. Staring at it, she tilted her head to the side, wondering about the place he often referred to as the Enchanted Forest, curious if it was anything like Neverland.

Was it beautiful? Terrifying? Both?

Deep in her thoughts, she barely heard the door behind her open and close softly and turning distractedly from his desk watched with some surprise as Hook came into the room. There was an odd air about him—dark, predatory, slightly sinister. Clad in black and leather, she felt her breath hitch in her throat, as he stared at her from across the room with narrowed blue eyes. He considered her a long moment—making no attempt to hide his languid and blatant perusal of her body.

Under the hot scrutiny of his gaze she tensed—the atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged and nearly volatile. Meeting her curious stare, he began walking, slowly making his way over to her; and she could feel her eyes grow wide as a tiny sliver of fear inched its way into her brain.

"Do you um…" she swallowed and took a breath, mentally telling herself to calm down, annoyed with how off balanced she suddenly felt. "Do you need something?" It was irritating how soft and unsure her voice was.

He merely smiled at her; it was dark, bordering on cruel and as he came to a halt in front of her, as usual not minding her any personal space, she had to tilt her chin upwards so she could properly see him. Peering at him carefully, she unthinkingly took a step back, cringing slightly when her back brushed up against the desk behind her.

"What's wrong Hook?"

He didn't say anything, his humorless smile merely widened and quickly his good arm snaked around her waist causing her to gasp in surprise as he pulled her towards him fast, slamming her body into his.

"Hey…what the—?"

"Oh are you going to deny me love? Pretend it's not something you've thought about?" He finally spoke, his voice low and close to her ear, the scent of rum nearly overwhelming her.

"Are you—are you drunk?" She asked, trying to keep the fear in her voice at bay as her traitorous heart pounded rapidly at a fast and painful pace.

"Don't insult me _Swan_." He said—his tone biting, his hold on her tight.

She tried to wrack her brain, tried to figure out the change in his behavior, the reasoning for his sudden forcefulness. Attempting to push against his chest, she sighed as he remained immobile, her efforts useless. "You _are_ drunk. You reek like liquor...let go of me. _Now_."

The low chuckle he gave in answer was dark and slightly ominous and she hated herself for the tiny shudder that followed it as the beginnings of lust kindled low in her belly. "Don't act like you haven't thought about this lass. Don't pretend I don't know you've dreamed of me coming to you. You think about it don't you? Do you fantasize about the dangerous pirate captain throwing you on that bed and having his way with you…leaving you good and ravished. And I could. Oh, I could so easily do it…and you'd like it." His lips whispered over the sensitive skin at her neck and she bit back a breathy sigh at the contact. "You'd love it."

She would…she knew she would.

But something was off—something wasn't right.

"I saw you on the beach yesterday darling."

She ignored him, unsure what that had to do with her current predicament, "I said get your hands off me… _just stop_ …talk to me." His answer was a gentle and deliberate thrust of his hips against her, and she couldn't hold back the gasp that tumbled from her lips, hating him as he laughed at her response, the sound triumphant, wicked and knowing.

"You were crying."

She shook her head, trying to clear it—his words, the anguish and accusation in his tone, the tightening of his grip…it made no sense.

"You were crying on the beach. Are you so unhappy here? Do you miss him that much…that foolish lost boy of yours— _Pan_. Do you wish your young lover had come to save you instead? Do you still think of him now? Do you want him to take you away from the villainous _Captain Hook_?" He lifted his head and staring down at her with flashing blue eyes, the corners of his mouth tilted into a mocking smirk. "I can make you forget him Emma." He said softly, and she noticed that his voice was laced with just the slightest bit of tenderness before his eyes blazed angrily again.

When his mouth came descending down onto hers, she was too surprised to say anything, too shocked to respond—only a tiny whimper escaped her as his lips crashed against hers and he kissed her hard…almost brutally. She could taste the anger and rum on his tongue as he forced his way into her mouth without ceremony; she could feel the frustration in his harsh unrelenting grip. For one brief moment she relaxed, she gave into him. For an instant she allowed him access to her, she reveled in the feeling of being held by him, of having his lips moving roughly against hers, of his arms pushing her body desperately into his.

She gave that to him, almost without thought because he was right—she had dreamed of him holding her and taking her more times than she could count. She wanted him...there was no denying it. So she allowed herself to sink into him, to yield, until suddenly something inside of her rejected it.

_Not like this._

Breaking away from the kiss, she stared up at him breathless and dazed, watching as his lust-filled eyes cleared and gave way to annoyance before his mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Too much for you darling? Did your Peter handle you more delicately?"

Her answering slap echoed in the silent room and her palm burned with the contact, as humiliation and rage simmered inside of her.

"Leave." She whispered, her voice trembling as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

She saw a variety of emotions flash in his eyes…anger, regret, sorrow and then slowly he released her. Pushing away from her roughly, he backed up a step or two, and staring at her, he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but instead of following through he shook his head and turning on his heel made his way out of the room.

And he never once looked back, the sound of the door softly closing echoing in her head, as she dropped to the floor and buried her face in her hands. Quiet painful sobs wracked her body and as she silently cried she couldn't rid herself of the tingling feeling on her lips...

He had branded her with his kiss.

* * *

It was dark and cool before she wandered above deck. An entire day had come and gone and he had yet to seek her out—only further fueling her anger.

But even more than that she was curious.

After an entire night of cursing him, cursing herself, and cursing them both, she had fallen asleep thoroughly exhausted and utterly confused. Walking out into the breezy night air she gathered her wits and scanned her surroundings, her eyes quickly finding him standing near the helm.

He looked dark and dangerous.

_Irresistible._

Making her way towards him, she tried to ignore the phantom feelings of his lips against hers, the way her body had felt pressed against his. Her mind cruelly taunted her with images of their kiss—passionate and angry.

"Ahhh there you are lass…come back for another go?"

His words stopped her in her tracks, hitting her hard.

"I assumed you'd break down soon enough." He said, turning fully towards her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The pirate she had first encountered so long ago stood before her, the man she'd slowly been falling in love with nowhere to be seen.

"Why are you doing this?"

His smile widened and he stepped towards her, narrowing his eyes when she took a step back. "Ahhh Emma darling, don't deny it…I felt you yield to me last night…no need to fight it any longer."

"What is wrong with you?" Her voice rose an octave and her body trembled as fury coursed its way through her veins fast. She wasn't sure what she had expected…an apology…an explanation…both.

Clearly she had been mistaken.

"What's wrong with me? I only want to make you forget. I only want to do you a favor. Your lover abandoned you…even now it effects you. Even now it has you shedding tears for what could have been…give yourself over to me and I'll make you forget." His smile was slow and devastating, the confident grin of a man who had charmed his way into countless women's beds.

Glaring at him with all the heat she could muster, she shook her head, refusing to let his words affect her. "He was _not_ my lover," she hissed, watching as slight surprise flashed across his features. Quickly she continued, cutting him off before he had the chance to speak. "The day you saw me crying on the beach I was thinking of Peter…you're right. I was thinking about how different my feelings for you and him were. He taught me to trust. He gave me hope. And then he crushed it, abandoning me in the process. So I cried _yes._ I cried because I was scared… terrified of _you."_ She saw him raise an eyebrow at that, but she barreled on, not allowing him the chance to interrupt. "You terrify me. You terrify me because I don't understand what you're doing to me. I wanted to hate you. I did hate you at first…I wanted to escape you and go home and forget all about you. But now…now I can't. You're inside me…you're inside my head…my heart...the very core of my being. And I can't get rid of you. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me…because I don't know what that means…if you feel it too…if it means _anything_ to you." Stopping suddenly she shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "At the end of the day I should have known better. I'm nothing but a stupid and naive girl…an entertaining distraction...a means to pass your over abundant time in this God awful place."

"Emma—" he stepped towards her and once again she took a step back.

"You're an ass Killian Jones...just stay the hell away from me." She spat—the words coming out harsh and angry as the weight of what had occurred between them the night before settled heavily on her. His stupidity and utter blindness and carelessness for her feelings took a hold of her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes. And looking at him, she saw the surprise and the pain that lingered in his expression. Scoffing at him, not caring what, if anything at all, he had to say to her, she turned and stalked away, relieved when he didn't follow.

It wasn't until she was back in his cabin with the door locked and the lamps doused that she realized _that_ was the first time she had used his true name in place of his moniker.

And the simple realization crushed her heart while bringing fresh tears to her already burning eyes.

* * *

Emma closed her eyes, taking a brief moment to appreciate the soft scents and sounds of the entrancing world around her. She had left the ship earlier that day without speaking to anyone about her departure. Instead she had merely waltzed off the Jolly Roger as if she owned it, as if she had every right to come and go as she pleased.

And no one had stopped her.

No burly crewmates had crossed her path blocking her exit, no furious captain had shouted at her, demanding she come back. She had left and not a single soul aboard the great ship had attempted to intervene and bring her back.

Not knowing where to go, she had begun walking away from the beach and eventually finding a small trail, against her better judgment she had followed it. She had walked for what had seemed like miles, cursing Hook in the process and silently acknowledging that if she got lost or eaten by wild animals she was going to place the blame entirely on him for being such an arrogant ass and forcing her to flee his ship once again.

Of course she had ended up falling on a particularly uneven portion of the path—a sharp rock had sliced her hand leaving a pretty decent cut. It had hurt like hell and the string of angry curses that had followed the fall would have impressed even the foulest of pirates. And that too, she somehow managed to blame Hook for. She figured if he hadn't acted the way he had, with his hot kisses and hurtful words laced with false accusations, she never would have left and injured herself.

Thinking about her hand she opened her eyes and looked down at it, wincing at the jagged and deep red cut. Scowling, she figured sooner rather than later she'd have to find water to clean it. But first she wanted to enjoy the calm serenity a bit longer. On a sigh, she gazed out at the lush field she sat in. The grass was green and soft—scattered with vibrant wildflowers of every color combination imaginable. Butterflies fluttered from bud to bud as exotic birds flew from perch to perch in the towering trees of the nearby forest. With a final stretch and a sad sigh she lifted herself off the ground, a tiny smile ghosting her lips.

Neverland really was enchanting.

"Care for me to walk you back to the ship darling?"

She closed her eyes for a moment trying to block out the warring emotions that bubbled up at the sound of his velvet voice. Squaring her shoulders, she turned around and faced him, noticing the wary expression he wore. "So you found me."

His mouth kicked up into a slight grin and his clear blue eyes never left hers. "Always."

Emma fought not to show any reaction to his declaration and biting her bottom lip, she lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"I'd rather not leave you to the beasts that roam the hills…Neverland is as dangerous as it is beautiful. It'll be dark soon…come back with me."

She sighed, he was right—she'd never survive on her own, she had no other choice. "Fine." Walking towards him, she made a move to stalk past him when suddenly he reached out, grabbing her arm lightly.

"Give me your hand."

She glanced down at her hand quickly before looking back up at him. "What?"

"Your hand it's cut, let me help you."

The reminder sent a flash of pain burning through her palm but backing away she shook her head. "What? No…it's fine just forget about it—"

He reached out fast, faster than she'd anticipated, and capturing her wrist with his hook, pulled her towards him. " _No_. It's not."

She hated how instantly the spicy smell of him—rum, sea, and something uniquely him—invaded her senses. Scowling up at him she raised a brow. "So _now_ you're going to be a gentleman?" She asked quietly, watching as he inspected her hand with a light touch and a gentle expression.

Glancing up, he leaned towards her and closing the already small space between them, gave her an infuriating smirk. "The beasts can smell blood…and I'm _always_ a gentleman."

She raised a brow, wanting to remind him that his recent actions with her proved otherwise, but for some reason she held her tongue, watching as he grabbed a bottle from his pocket and uncorked it with his mouth. Looking up at her, he flashed her a small almost apologetic smile before dousing her entire upturned palm with the warm clear liquid. Immediately a burning pain shot through her hand and she tried to pull back but he had a firm grip on her with his hook and refused to let her go.

"Oh God…what the hell is that?" she asked wincing as the liquid continued to run down her skin.

He smirked and inspecting the cut, he unraveled a scarf that was loosely wrapped around his neck. "It's rum….and a bloody waste of it."

She frowned, watching as he expertly began to wrap her hand in his scarf, ignoring the heat that began to dance across her skin at his close presence and soft touch. She wanted to be angry with him…she _was_ angry with him…and she'd prefer to stay that way. But as she watched him tend to her injury, she nearly rolled her eyes at herself in disgust…her resolve was already wavering.

Concentrating on his task he cleared his throat, gaining her attention. "Over three hundred years ago a coward took away my love. Ripped her heart out right in front of me and crushed it to dust, letting the pieces fall to my feet. I made a promise that very day…I would get my vengeance. I would find that crocodile, skin him, watch him suffer and die. He would pay for what he did to Milah. Three hundred years Emma and that has been my one and only focus. I've never wavered from it." Slowly he brought her hand to his lips, and taking the cloth he'd wrapped it with between his teeth, he caught her eyes and pulled gently, his mouth lifting slightly when she inhaled sharply. Tucking the scarf into itself, he continued to hold her hand, his eyes still searching hers. "And then you came crashing into my life…disrupting the delicate balance of this land…tempting me to forget. You changed everything Emma. _Everything._ I wanted to keep you at arms length…I wanted to make you hate me. Because you, my love, terrify me as well. You're the most infuriatingly stubborn lass I've ever met. And the more I pushed you, the more you reminded me of _her_ …all spirit and wit and beauty. And I hated you for it. Because surely thinking of you in that way was a betrayal to Milah. So I continued to keep you at bay—playing the part of the rotten pirate." He paused his eyes burning into hers, "and then you left me. You ran from me and my world, which had unbeknownst to me gotten brighter, very suddenly dimmed again."

Tentatively he reached out and took a lock of her hair between his fingers, his entire face relaxing when she didn't pull away. And how could she pull away—she could barely breathe let alone move. "When I searched for you after you were taken by the gnomes something terrifying occurred to me. Perhaps revenge isn't the only reason I've lived all these years…perhaps I've watched countless sunsets and seen many sunrises…waiting for _you_. "

On a shaky sigh, she blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the prickling of tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes, inwardly cursing when one escaped and rolled down her cheek. As it made a wet path, slowly Hook brought a hand to her face and cupping her cheek gently, he rubbed a thumb over her skin, softly brushing the tear away. "When I got you back I swore to the gods I wouldn't let you go. I'd do everything in my power to keep you…to make you happy always. But then I saw you that day on the beach. You were staring out at the sea and you looked so distraught, so melancholy—it was like a blade to my gut to see you that way. It was a rash conclusion but I assumed you missed your Peter, your world… _both_. I acted out. Foolishly so. I drank a filthy amount of rum and my actions the other night were deplorable only further proving to you what a black-hearted scoundrel I am. I upset you my love…and for that I'm truly sorry." He smiled sadly and rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek again. ""The wardrobe is a means back to your world…it is yours. You're free to go, whenever you choose."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with more tears, blurring her vision. Staring at him, she frowned when he took his hand away and quickly and without thinking she grabbed it. Bringing his fingers to her lips, she kissed them softly and his sad smile was swiftly replaced with a look of shock before fading away into an intense expression of fiery concentration—suddenly she felt lightheaded.

"Killian." She said softly, her words coming out a whisper.

"Emma I—"

But before he could say anything else, she fisted her hands into the lapels of his coat and dragged him to her, crushing her lips against his. He reacted instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her even closer, his mouth moved against hers in a longing and passionate rhythm. Neither held back—he kissed her with all the desperation of a man looking for redemption and finding it in her. And she kissed him with all the wild abandonment of a woman who had never known real love and trusting him to show it to her.

When he laid her down on the grass, she welcomed him into her arms without hesitation. And as they came together in the green fields with the bright Neverland sky over them, she cried out in wonder and awe. Something inside of her—a part of her that had laid dormant for so many years— sparked and glowed golden around the edges as her love for him overwhelmed her, burning bright and leaving her dazed and breathless.

And later as they lay in the field, her head resting on his chest listening to the soft beating of his heart, she closed her eyes with a smile because in his arms she felt safe, in his arms she felt alive.

In his arms she had finally found her home.

* * *

"I need to go back to my world."

She felt him tense, his grip around her tightened as they lay in his bed, the gentle sway of the ship threatening to lull her to sleep.

"Oh?"

"There's this feeling I can't explain it. It's like I'm needed back there. It's weird I know…but—but I have to go."

Killian cleared his throat; with her back to him she was unable to read his face. "When do you want to leave?"

"Soon." She sat up and twisting herself so that she was facing him, she smiled down at him. Lifting a hand to his face, she leaned over, gently tracing a finger across the faded scar on his cheek. "Come with me."

His eyes found hers and she was momentarily stunned by how blue they could look even in the dimly lit cabin. "Emma…are you sure? A pirate with a hook for a hand in a world without magic?"

Her smile faltered a bit and lowering her lips, she ghosted her mouth over his as her hair fell over them in a silken curtain. "Haven't you always planned on going there anyway?"

He gave her a tight grin, his eyes narrowing slightly as he brushed her hair from her face. "For very different reasons my love."

She paused—she was still uncertain as to whether or not he had given up his vengeance against the man who had taken Milah's life. "Would you let me go so easily?" she whispered, her eyes on his, her voice unsure.

He was silent for a moment, something bright shone in his gaze and then lifting his head slightly, he caught her lips in a slow meaningful kiss. Like always, light flashed behind her eyes, something sparked and crackled between them and she was left feeling breathless and wanting more.

"No. I'll never let you go…I'll always fight for you Emma."

Her lips trembled at his words and closing her eyes she lowered her forehead to his. "Promise?"

"Always."

* * *

Standing on the edge of the moss-covered cliff, Emma stared out at the raging sea as it crashed into the rocks below her.

They were finally leaving Neverland.

Letting her gaze sweep over the brilliant blue water she breathed in the salty air and closing her eyes, tried to permanently implant the image of the crashing waves and setting sun into her brain—never wanting to forget it. Their departure from the enchanted place was bittersweet...she could tell Killian was nervous and on edge, but anytime she questioned him about it he merely ran a hand over her hair and placed a sweet kiss on her head, murmuring something sweet or suggestive, making her completely forget any concerns she'd had.

It would be different back home—she knew it would be. But it would also be better…of that she had no doubt. They would adjust and they would figure everything out _together._

As the wind picked up whipping her hair around her, she smiled, a tiny laugh escaping her lips when she heard the soft musical sounds of mermaids' voices drifting up to her ears. Their song was enticing, heartbreaking, and beautiful. And she leaned ever closer trying to catch the hypnotizing melody. Without realizing what she was doing, she took a step forward and then another—captivated by it, she felt compelled to hear more.

Their song went on about a villain and a stolen princes with a love that could never be. And something inside of her broke a little as the words echoed in the wind. They floated up through the air whispering softly of sadness and loss of redemption and the perils of true love. And her eyes burned as the haunting tune gently wrapped itself around her, beckoning her closer still.

It wasn't until she was spiraling downwards with the sea rushing towards her fast that she realized she'd fallen victim to the sirens' oldest trap. When she hit the water and pain burst through her entire body, dimly she thought she heard the sounds of beautiful and cruel laughter floating above her.

And it was his blue eyes that she saw before she was dragged under completely, her body giving up on her entirely.

* * *

"Wendy—Emma? Emma!"

She opened her eyes to see a familiar brown gaze staring down at her, concern and pain flashing in his stare as gentle hands probed her lightly. Her body ached and her vision was blurred.

"Emma can you hear me?"

Closing her eyes again, she barely allowed herself time to panic when she realized she could barely move.

She wished _he_ was with her.

"Killian."

The words barely passed her lips before she welcomed the darkness once more.

* * *

"She needs a doctor."

"She needs to be healed!"

Cracking an eye open, Emma could just barely make out the two figures that were only a few feet away from her. One was standing stoically while the other was pacing back and forth, his movements brisk and near frantic.

"If the pixies were going to heal her they would have been here by now. They know about her and they're not coming." The voice was calm, rational.

"Then we'll make them come!" The other voice roared, and she heard the sounds of something clattering and smashing. Vaguely Emma wondered what had been broken.

"Hook…she needs to get help from her world…they have doctors there who can heal her."

"I thought there was no magic _there_."

"There's not. They have tools and medicines. They might be able to help her."

Emma's eyes focused a bit more and her gaze landed on Killian, he was staring at the other figure his stance tense and rigid. "She could be fine."

"Or she could be dying." The other vaguely familiar voice stated bluntly.

Emma raised a brow, wincing when she realized that even _that_ hurt. She'd have to agree with the last statement…she felt as if she was dying. And as if to prove her point, she attempted to cough, intent on clearing her scratchy throat. But almost instantly she realized her mistake, crying out as pain rushed up her body leaving her gasping for air as tears stung her eyes and she fought to hold on to consciousness.

Immediately Killian came and knelt down by her side, "Emma love, you're awake. Don't fret darling. You're on my ship. You've had an accident."

She forced a smile, and even that seemed to send her body into a fit of protests. "Figures." She muttered her voice coming out a rasped croak.

His smile was gentle and laced with pain, "so you thought you'd take a swim with the mermaids before leaving...you foolish girl."

"Tricked." She mumbled, her torso ached and her head was pounding. She was having trouble focusing on Killian—she could just barely make out the deep lines of concern etched on his face.

"We're going to fix you. You just have to hold on for me." He said softly, brushing his lips lightly over her cheek. Her hair was matted to her head and she briefly wondered if it was sticky with the saltwater or her own blood.

"Hurts." She whispered, a tear making its way down her cheek.

Through the haziness of her vision she saw Killian's eyes close briefly as his jaw clenched tightly. "I know darling."

He stood up then and immediately she missed the warmth of his presence.

"The wardrobe." She heard him say to the other person. "I'll take her to her world. We were planning on it anyway."

"And then what?" The other voice scoffed, his tone incredulous.

"And then I'll get her the bloody attention she needs…you foolish git."

"And how will you do that Hook? You're unfamiliar with her land, she needs help right away. You have to let me take her."

She heard Killian's dark chuckle at that and she wanted to shake her head, to protest the other person's words. Killian was supposed to go with her. No one else.

"And why should you take her? You abandoned her once. Why would I let you take her from me now? Why would I trust you with _her_?"

"Because if you don't she could die! What are you going to do when you get to her land? You wouldn't know where to take her. You wouldn't know how to seek help there. You wouldn't know what the hell to do. Her world is very different from ours—and a three hundred year old pirate captain with a hook for a hand isn't exactly going to be welcomed without questions. It's like nothing you've ever seen before…and I've been there. I know how it works… _you have to let me take her."_

"The wardrobe is only built for two people to pass through." Killian's voice was pained and broken.

"I know."

"If you take her from me I'll have lost her anyway."

"You don't know that."

There was a long silence, it stretched on for what seemed like an eternity and Emma struggled feebly, attempting to stay awake.

"Do the honorable thing for once in your life Hook. If you love her…let her go."

No. No. No. No! She shook her head attempting to protest—Killian couldn't listen to those words. He couldn't leave her.

"If she dies Pan..I will find out and I will end you."

Pan.

Peter.

Emma almost laughed at the irony—the boy who had left her to the terrors of Neverland now fighting for her life and attempting to save her.

"Then let us go now...so she has a chance."

She heard Killian sigh and then suddenly he was kneeling next to her again, his blue eyes watery his expression broken. "Emma." He said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"No," She whispered. Panicking she closed her eyes fast and opened them again—she couldn't see him, her eyes were brimming with too many unshed tears. "Killian. No. Don't…leave...me." The words were stuttered and barely understandable.

"I have no other choice love. I can't let you die…I won't lose you like that. And Pan is right, I don't know your world at all…he needs to be the one to take you."

She was crying now, hot tears streaked down her cheeks as his words resonated in her brain. She knew he was right…deep down she did. She wasn't ready to die…but she couldn't bare the thought of being an entire world away from him. Her heart broke and something inside of her dimmed—the light he had ignited in her was slowly snuffed out.

"Killian."

He brushed his lips against hers softly, the touch was barely a whisper against her mouth. "I will find you Emma."

Her lips trembled and her vision wavered again. "Promise?"

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next—it was heartbreaking sound, "Always."

Closing her eyes at that, her mind began to drift as the pain in her body consumed her. Faintly she felt as if she were being lifted and then gently she was placed down onto a hard uncomfortable surface—the light behind her eyes became dim as the space around her grew cramped. She felt a presence next to her and when she opened her eyes once more, she noticed Peter sitting next to her in what was presumably the wardrobe—his eyes were downcast, focused on a small vial he held in his hand. Looking up through the open wood door, Emma's eyes landed on Killian—he was a few feet away, his face tear streaked and tired. Meeting her gaze he gave her a small smirk, not an ounce of the charm she had come to adore lingered in the grin. He held her stare for a moment and noticing when her eyes filtered down to Peter's hand before back up to him, his entire posture tensed and his face twisted into an expression of pure rage.

"What is that? Pan what is that! Damn you! Emma don't drink that!"

"She has to forget…she—she can't remember. I'm sorry."

At Peter's words, Killian rushed towards them fast, the grief in his eyes the last thing she saw before the light was doused and suddenly she felt as if she were flying—soaring through time and space.

And as she closed her eyes again, Emma just barely heard Peter whisper to her in a dull, sorrowful voice, "I'm so sorry Wendy."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is AU so a few things might be different whether it's someone's physical features or what happens once Emma and MM get to the Enchanted Forest. That being said for the most part Storybrooke season 1 is all still canon, and season 2 is canon up until Emma and Snow fall through the portal and end up in the Enchanted Forest. In the fic I mention things happening in Storybrooke that you should have no trouble following if you're familiar with the season(s). Also, this isn't the last chapter I plan on adding a final epilogue(ish) chapter later. Thanks for reading! :)

_**Part 4: The Savior and the Captain  
** _

_ Phoenix Arizona, Mid-December 2001 _

He had lied to her.

Leaning back on the uncomfortable cot, Emma rested her head against the cold hard cement wall. Her brain was swimming, her heart was pounding, and her eyes were blurring with tears. A few weeks ago she had been released from the hospital. During her time there Neal had remained by her side—taking care of her and keeping her company. When released, he had been waiting for her with a comforting smile and high aspirations of settling down somewhere outside of Portland. It had sounded nice… _really nice_. But it had also sounded like a pipe dream. The reality of their situation was—they were two young adults with no family and not a cent to their names. So instead of bettering themselves, they had spent those first weeks after her stint in the hospital staying in dingy hotels and stealing this and that to survive and get by.

Until suddenly it wasn't enough anymore.

Regardless of their situation, it was time to _grow-up_ , she had told him—it was time to reconsider settling down.

And he had readily agreed.

Tallahassee had been where they had decided to start over.

Only he had lied to her.

_This will be the last time,_ he had said. _One more job_ , he had told her with a sure confidence that had her believing him without question.

Staring up at the ceiling Emma blinked away her tears, furious with herself for being on the verge of crying.

Watches—they had been beautiful and expensive…enough to give them a fresh start. And he had placed one on her wrist with a little smile… _wait for me_ , he had whispered with a kiss. _Almost home_ , he had promised with a wink. _A fresh start_ he had reminded her again before leaving.

She had been ready to follow him anywhere, the thought of settling down had sparked something inside of her—had made her feel warm with hope.

_Home_.

It had sounded lovely.

_Home._

Tentatively she had allowed herself to believe him, to trust him, to let her thoughts linger on the promise of a new and honest life. For the first time in what felt like years, she had allowed herself to rely on someone else.

But in the end she hadn't gotten her fresh start…she hadn't gotten to make her home with Neal.

He had set her up instead—the cops had found her wearing the evidence of the stolen goods as she had naively waited for him at their designated meeting place.

She had gone to jail.

Neal had left her.

Neal had lied to her.

He had made off with the money, leaving her with nothing except an eleven month sentence and…

Her vision blurred again as she looked down at the pregnancy test she held in her hand. Placing a hand to her stomach she closed her eyes and tried her hardest to take deep calming breaths, needing to regain control of her spinning thoughts. But as her breathing came in and out shaky and choked, she realized her efforts were in vain as her mind refused to wrap itself around her current situation.

_She couldn't remember being with him intimately._

Since the day she had left the hospital they had shared nothing but a few kisses and some not so innocent touches. But with her ribs on the mend and the rest of her body still healing from her accident, he hadn't attempted anything past those few heated embraces.

And yet…

Shaking her head she opened her eyes again and let her gaze filter down to the test. _POSITIVE_. It taunted. _PREGNANT._ It mocked. The only reasonable explanation was that it had happened before her accident. But her fuzzy mind, still unclear about anything that had happened between the night of her eighteenth birthday and the day she had woken up in the hospital, refused to conjure up any memories.

Biting her lip, she stared down at the test, and for a brief moment allowed herself to consider a baby—a tiny person with tiny little toes and tiny little fingers and a fuzzy head of soft hair. She pictured Neal with his mischievous grin and disheveled appearance and tried to imagine what their baby would look like, who's features it would inherit.

Would it have his rumpled dark hair and warm brown eyes—the same ones that had lured her in and tempted her to trust?

And as she attempted to picture the baby, it was with a wave of confusion that she found herself imagining eyes as stormy as the sea looking back up at her.

* * *

_ Manhattan New York, April 2008 _

The music was too loud, the bar too dark. Swirling her drink in hand, Emma watched as the amber liquid sloshed around in the tumbler she held. It had been a long night. Her guy hadn't been where she had anticipated him to be and once she had finally found the creep he had ran. And she _hated_ when they ran. Sometimes (most of the time) being a bail-bonds person really sucked…doing a number on a person's faith in humanity. And thinking of her night from hell, Emma shifted on the stool, sucking in a sharp breath when she moved too quickly. Not only had the jackass ran but when she had caught up with him, he had fought. The jerk had landed a pretty decent blow to her stomach too—which she had gladly repaid him for with a swift kick to the groin.

Wincing, as she tried to ignore her aching torso, Emma threw back a swig of scotch, enjoying the burning sensation the warm liquid left when sliding down her throat.

"Rough night?"

Closing her eyes at the sound of the overly friendly voice, she sighed…it definitely wasn't her night. "You have no idea."

"Mind if I buy you a drink?"

Straightening, Emma glanced at the man next to her. He was easy enough on the eyes, with short blonde hair, hazel eyes and a muscular build. "As long as you aren't looking to get anything else with that drink, by all means buy away." She said signaling the bartender.

The man smiled, his teeth a false and bright white, "just looking for some conversation."

Emma raised a brow, smirking as the bartender placed another scotch in front of her. "Yeah right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Turning towards him, Emma hid her wince of discomfort with a tight smile. "Guys like you hit on girls like me for one reason only and it sure as hell aint conversation buddy."

"Oh really?"

She nodded, lifting her shoulders in a careless shrug, "Yep. You see a girl like me dressed in a tight dress, sitting at a bar, drinking alone…I just scream good lay to you. And that's fine. I don't come to places like this looking for love and relationships so generally I don't give a shit when guys like you make those assumptions...in fact I prefer it. Makes it a lot easier on me." Calmly taking a sip of her drink, she watched as he fumbled with his own, her words obviously surprising him.

"Wow. Um…that—that's not true."

Raising a brow, Emma shook her head, almost feeling sorry for how flustered she had made him. "Oh really?"

He shrugged, looking down at his beer he gave the bar they sat at a sad little smile, "maybe some of us come to places like this trying our hardest to work around the walls we've built up…looking for more. Everyone wants a shot at love, even if it happens in some dingy dive bar."

She stared at him for a moment, and then, without warning, his words hit her hard, stirring something inside of her.

_"You've got so many walls built up lass, it would lead one to think...love has been all to rare in your life hasn't it?"_

Freezing as the whispered voice rang in her head, the mocking tone laced with equal hints of concern and inquiry, Emma closed her eyes briefly, letting out a shaky breath as she attempted to grasp onto the hazy glimpses of a small wood paneled room, cursing silently as it, like always, faded away too quickly.

"Dammit, Listen, I'm sorry…that was deep and so not smooth and just…really, really stupid of me. I'm always saying stuff like that. It's embarrassing." Her companion got up; dropping a few bills onto the bar, he turned towards her. "Have a good night."

"Wait." Reaching out, Emma placed a hand on his arm, offering the most genuine smile she could manage as he looked down at the brief touch and studied where her fingers lingered on his skin. When he glanced back up, she nearly rolled her eyes; hating the hopeful look he gave her, the nearly adoring way he ran his eyes down her figure. He was a complete stranger, someone she wouldn't care to remember in the morning...or _ever_. In short, he was exactly what she had been looking for. Gathering her resolve, she stood and throwing back the rest of her drink, leaned towards him slowly. It was almost impossible not to grin at his sharp intake of breath as she moved closer, brushing her chest against his lightly. "I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't looking for love and relationships." She whispered, tilting her head up, she looked into his dazed hazel eyes, her lips quirking into a meaningful smile as his Adam's apple bobbed with the effort of his tight swallow. "But I wouldn't mind getting laid."

Watching as his eyes widened, she laughed softly, knowingly, before turning from him. And with a small smile still in place, she grabbed her leather jacket and weaved her way out of the crowded bar, knowing, without turning around, that her nameless companion was following her.

And as she stepped out into the cool night air, acknowledging her partner for the evening with a tiny smirk and a quick nod, it took everything in her not to curse out loud as a deep taunting chuckle echoed in her brain and the wind picked up around them, carrying with it the scent of the sea.

* * *

_ Boston Massachusetts, late September 2011 _

Taking a deep breath, Emma tried to calm her rapidly beating heart as she drove her beat-up yellow bug in the direction of Storybrooke Maine. Biting back a nearly hysterical giggle, she cleared her throat, trying not to draw attention to her newly discovered son that she was on the verge of losing it completely.

_Henry._

He was a sweet kid.

And her heart lurched and her stomach dropped at the thought.

How was she going to deal with this one?

Frowning, she let her eyes shoot over to the little boy that sat next to her in the passenger seat. He was clutching an old fairytale book as if it held all the secrets to the world in it's tattered and faded pages. His face radiated hope and trust; his infectious little smile glowed with innocence. What the hell was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to tell the son she had given up a little over a decade ago that his theories were completely bat-shit crazy without ruining his life entirely?

Sighing Emma shook her head, focusing on the dark road again.

Her birthdays really did have a habit of sucking.

"I knew I'd find you…and I knew you'd come and help us. You're going to break the curse Emma…you'll see."

Emma rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan, something inside of her twisting a little with the beginnings of hope as the boy said her name with a note of awe and reverence woven into it. Stubbornly she pushed the feeling away, reminding herself the last thing she needed was for this kid to weasel his way passed the emotional barriers she had intentionally built up around her—she hadn't spent the last decade alone only to have a reminder from her past come and change everything.

"Listen kid, I'm not breaking any curse okay? I'm just bringing you back to your parents so my ass doesn't get hauled off to jail." _Again_ , she added silently, frowning a little at thought. "I'm not staying okay? This is a one-way trip for you and a round trip for me. Got it?"

At his silence, Emma sighed and glanced over at him again to see if he was listening, momentarily blanching when she found him staring at her with a strange little smile. Resisting the urge to frown at him, she looked back at the road, but not before noticing the kid's eye color. They weren't a deep brown like she had always imagined they would be…not even a murky hazel.

They were a clear grayish blue…like the sky meeting the sea before an impending storm.

* * *

_ Storybrooke Main, early spring 2012 _

Lying in her bed Emma looked up at the cracked ceiling above her, trying her hardest to shut her mind off but unable to do so.

Henry had asked about his father.

And she had lied.

She wasn't even sure how she had gotten herself into this situation—where she actually cared about what the kid thought of her. Nothing had gone as planned since the night he had shown up at her apartment in Boston, talking in riddles and winning her over with his easy ten-year old charm. She sighed; it was that charm...that damned harmless childlike allure that had pulled her in—and it was currently grounding her in a town she wanted very little do with.

In the beginning she had wanted to leave him in Storybrooke—it was what she had originally planned from the moment she had laid eyes on the kid. Instead she had stayed…telling herself it was simply to make sure he was okay. Wanting to believe that he was well taken care of by the woman who he claimed to be an Evil Queen. Only she had spent the last few months getting to know him… _her son._ The option of leaving him, of giving him up again, was looking much less appealing the longer she stayed. He looked at her with such blatant adoration, as if she were both the moon and sun that lit up the skies…as if she was his savior.

_The Savior._

She shook her head at the concept. He was so adamant in his beliefs, so one hundred percent certain that she was the product of _True Love—_ the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, sent away from her parents so that she could come back again to save an entire trapped realm. Running a hand down her face and up again, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought about Henry's far reaching claim. They were fairytale characters for Chrissake… _stories._ Thinking about the whole crazy idea made her cringe with disbelief and consider her son's state of mind with a considerable amount of worry.

But at the same time…she couldn't deny the smaller, more unsettling part of her, that whispered its protests…that begged for her to _believe._

Sometimes deep down in the farthest corner of her mind, she struggled with the more rational part of herself—she found herself fighting not to give in, attempting not to wish it was all true.

Regardless of what she did or did not believe, she and Henry had developed a very delicate and special relationship in Storybrooke. He looked up to her and she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the feeling of being near idolized by someone she had thought she had lost long ago…by someone she had reluctantly given away.

So when he had asked about his father, she had choked.

Quickly she had made up some tale about meeting a decent man in a diner, stretching the story even further and going on about how he had been a firefighter and had died a hero. It had sounded like the horrible lie it was in her own ears, dripping with deceit and falsehoods but the kid had bought it. He had eaten it up, apparently pleased with the idea of his dad being an American hero.

Turning over onto her stomach, Emma closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, trying to forget about the lie she had told her son in order to save them both the embarrassment of discussing his father's true identity. Because really, how was she supposed to tell the kid that his father had been a low-life criminal...someone who had abandoned her, someone who hadn't loved her?

With all of his beliefs about fairytales and true love and magic it would have crushed him.

By withholding the truth she had merely been protecting him.

And blowing out another exaggerated breath, she tried to convince herself it was the memory of being abandoned by Neal that was keeping her up so late. It had nothing to do with the fact that for a few brief seconds after the question of Henry's paternity had been asked, it hadn't been Neal's face that had come to mind, but rather a dark and dangerous looking man with eyes as blue as an endless ocean on a clear day and a smirk as smug and confident as they come. And it was utterly ridiculous how her pulse had raced for a moment, how her mind had screamed and how her heart had nearly wept with recognition…with _memories_.

It didn't matter because as quickly as the mysterious figure had come to mind it had vanished only adding to the ever-growing list of odd flashes and glimpses she'd spent nearly a decade trying to figure out and then ultimately attempting to avoid.

* * *

It was all real.

Everything.

Magic.

Fairytales.

The Evil Queen.

_The Savoir._

Henry had been right about the curse. And because she had doubted him…because they had _all_ doubted him…he was laying in a magic-induced coma fighting for his goddamn life. Letting out a shuddering breath, Emma refused to let her emotions get the best of her, she refused to think about the pitying looks she had received at the hospital, the whispers that Henry was fighting a losing battle. She couldn't think about that. She wouldn't let that stall her…she had to focus on saving him.

_Because she would save him_.

And apparently the key to undoing whatever the poisoned apple had done rested underneath Storybrooke's abandoned library.

Staring at the shaky elevator walls as Regina lowered her into the hidden basement chamber, she flinched as the musky scent of damp rock and lack of fresh air hit her fast. A glimpse of brown glistening walls, a cool dark atmosphere, an uncomfortable binding rope, and a confident faceless man flashed in front of her eyes…until unsurprisingly it vanished, the hazy image fleeing her mind.

Emma sighed in annoyance; the last thing she needed at a time like this was for her faulty brain to start playing memory games with her. She didn't have the time or the patience for it. She needed to concentrate on Henry…he was her one and only concern. Her priority. Lifting the gleaming sword she held in her hand, she stared down at it, fear clouding her mind as she took in the sight of the intimidating weapon. She prided herself on being a resourceful woman who had constantly proven she was entirely capable of getting herself out of sticky situations. In the past she had used her guts, skills, and brain…she was no damsel in distress. But this was different. This was magic and witches and curses and true love and everything she had never allowed herself to believe in. In short, she was out of her realm of expertise. Closing her eyes, she thought about David or James or Prince Charming or _whatever the hell his name was_ and tried to channel his battle skills even while a tiny part of her still struggled with coming to terms with what was going on—attempting to find a reasonable and plausible explanation.

_"Bad form darling. Quit gripping it like you would a mallet."_

Her eyes shot open and she glanced down at her grip, looking at it curiously as the smooth taunting voice spoke in her head. Lifting her hand slightly she inspected her hold…it was comfortable enough.

_"Yes well, I suppose it is, but you're not likely to win any duels holding it like that."_

Biting her lip, Emma felt her eyes widen as the phantom caress of an ocean breeze gently swept over her cheeks, the smell of salt and fresh air briefly invaded her nose, and the sound of that carelessly amused voice and clashing swords muffled only by her own competitive curses rang in her head.

Like always the brief flash of _something_ left her but this time it wasn't abrupt—it faded slowly, giving her a chance to grasp onto the bright blue of the sky, the brilliance of a swaying ship, and the gentle lilting of the velvet voice as it softly whispered instructions on how to properly wield a sword.

And as the elevator jumped and came to a stop it was with newfound confidence that she stepped off the lift, prepared to face whatever awaited her on the other side.

* * *

"I love you Henry." She whispered, the feeling of utter hopelessness and despair nearly overwhelming her as hot tears rolled down her cheeks stinging her skin and blurring her vision—the steady stream preventing her from truly seeing her son's lifeless form, as he lay on the hospital bed pale and small.

It was wrong.

It was all so very wrong.

How could she lose him when she had just found him again?

Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, intent on whispering her goodbyes, she gasped as a surge of something powerful and pure sparked through her body followed by a gust of wind caused by some strong unforeseen force. In that instant memories flooded her fast—the image of a sandy beach and warm brown eyes, a great ship, a thick terrifying forest, a taunting blue stare, gentle tender touches, a tiny baby with a red face and dark eyes, an empty maternity ward, her hopeless tears, isolated days and lonely nights and then finally, _finally_ Henry showing up at her apartment with a knowing look in his young sea colored eyes and an odd familiar smirk ghosting his lips.

A loud gasp forced her attention back to her son and with wide eyes she watched as his eyes fluttered open and he began to breathe normally again. Nearly choking on her relief, her mouth dropped open in disbelief and she quickly ran a hand over his face, brushing her fingers through his hair, needing to touch him, needing to make sure that he was real, that he was actually okay.

"I love you too…you saved me."

Leaning forward she smiled down at him paying no attention to the large tears that were still rolling down her cheeks and landing noiselessly on his chest. And as he grinned back up at her, his boyish features so pure and full of complete and utter faith and trust, she felt the emotional armor she had spent years carefully putting in place, begin to crack as something hopeful sparked in her heart.

* * *

__ Enchanted Forest, late October 2012 _ _

_Freaking Fairytale land._

On a sigh Emma's eyes warily scanned her surroundings—the scenery was pretty enough; with a brilliant blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds, towering trees and a gentle clear stream trickling in front of her. It was almost calming—a tiny sanctuary in the unknown land. But unfortunately the serenity that lay before her did nothing to lift her spirits. She was tired, irritable, dirty, and stuck in a land with zombies, ogres, and a crazy sorceress intent on either killing them or leaving them stranded in the desolate place.

She didn't think she was asking for much…she just wanted to get back to her son, maybe grab a decent meal, take a hot shower and throw back a damned drink.

_Or five._

Bending down Emma cupped the cool water from the stream in her hands and splashing it on her face, sighed blissfully as it hit her skin and ran down her neck and chest, cooling her off and soothing her nerves. Straightening, she wiped her face with the back of her hand and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on before reaching down for the sword that lay at her feet. It was as she was grabbing the weapon that an uneasy feeling suddenly swept through her, rippling down her spine and settling low in her belly.

Things were quiet.

Too quiet.

She had wandered away from Mulan, Aurora, and Mary Margaret after the young warrior had pointed her in the direction of the stream. She had needed some time to collect her thoughts, to distance herself for a brief moment from Mary Margaret's doting actions and concerned eyes. Everything had seemed safe enough before she had left. And it wasn't as if her mere presence alone was protecting the group from danger. To her surprise and admiration Mary Margret was more than capable of taking care of herself, and with Mulan's survival and battle skills she had left the women to continue setting up camp under the trees without any worry at all—the lure of cleaning herself up a bit had been strong enough for her not to give it a second thought. But as she slowly walked back, picking her way through the tall grass and thinning trees, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Her friends were in trouble.

Making her way into the clearing where she had last left the group, Emma's heart lurched into her throat as she saw her companions tied up to the nearby trees; their mouths gagged and their eyes wide as they struggled against the thick ropes that bound them.

"What the hell?" she whispered, raising her sword and taking a fast step forward.

"Ahh there you are love, I was beginning to lose hope you'd ever show."

Spinning around, Emma shuffled backwards as a man dressed all in black stepped out from behind a tree. A flood of recognition swept over her as she watched him come towards her slowly. He had a smug and carefree aura about him that practically radiated arrogance and authority while commanding attention. But as he leisurely made his way into the clearing, raising a brow as he made eye contact with her, his confident stride faltered slightly and a gentle look of appreciation and pure unadulterated pleasure passed over his features.

"Good gods Emma, you're even more bloody brilliant than I remember."

She narrowed her eyes at the statement; her heart pounding at the sound of his velvet voice and her pulse leaping as his use of her name registered in her confused and tired brain. Peering at him curiously as he took another step towards her, Emma raised her sword again, "Okay wait. Just stop right there buddy. Who—who the hell are you?" She asked, her tone hard and unyielding as she pointed her weapon menacingly in his direction.

He hesitated; something dark flashed in his bright eyes and his face fell slightly. But with a quick shake of his head, he seemingly recovered quickly, sending her a smile that had her insides doing things that they should definitely not be doing given the situation.

"Well I must admit…I had hoped that the fool hadn't given you the damned potion…quite unfortunate if you ask me."

"Potion?"

"A most disturbing elixir…designed for the sole purpose of making one forget."

"I don't understand."

"I'm sure you don't."

Emma raised a brow, vaguely acknowledging that Mary Margaret was screaming something at her against the gag in her mouth. As the muffled shouts grew louder, she knew her friend, mother, _whatever,_ was trying to warn her of something. But even so, she wasn't about to take her eyes of the perplexing man in front of her in order to figure out what the hell she was saying.

"Listen pal, I'm tired. It's been a long day. I'm not in the mood for games. So why don't you do yourself a favor and answer my questions before this gets ugly. Who are you? How do you know my name? And why the hell have you tied up my friends?"

He grinned again, his eyes flashing with humor. "Ahh you are a tough lass aren't you?" Glancing over her shoulder at the women he had bound to the trees, he shrugged carelessly. "Perhaps it was a bit rash…but rest assured they're unharmed…I needed to talk to you without interruptions… _Swan_." At her wide stare, he merely grinned and gestured to the group behind her. "Your friends are a bit blade happy and you're as stubborn as they come, my apologies darling but I figured this was the only way to get you to listen."

Again her heart leapt and her pulse raced. He seemed so sure and confident..and because he appeared sincere, she couldn't figure out what he was after. There was no deceit in his face, no lies in his voice; he truly wanted to talk to her, making the whole crazy set-up even more confusing and slightly alarming. "Who are you?" She demanded again, her voice coming out breathy and unsure as something terrifying edged its way into her mind.

With a smirk he dipped into a low mocking bow, "Killian Jones my love, or as your friend over there is so desperately trying to inform you over the scarf in her mouth… _Hook_." He raised his hand, shooting her a little grin as her eyes fell on the gleaming silver.

Emma stared at the admittedly threatening object at the end of his arm where his left hand should have been. The hook was pointed and sharp and quite obviously extremely dangerous but glancing back up at him she couldn't muster even an ounce of fear…if anything she was more annoyed than frightened.

Yet another friggin' fairytale character to add to the ever-growing list.

"As in Captain Hook?"

A pleased look flitted over his features, "so you've heard of me."

Emma raised a brow and sighed, "you could say that." Allowing herself a quick look over her shoulder at the tied up trio she landed her gaze back on him, noting with some wariness that he had taken another step towards her. "I think it's time for you to let my friends go."

He raised his good hand and brought it to his scruffy, unshaven face, tapping his chin with his index finger, he gave the appearance of a man deep in thought. "ahhh I think not." At her frustrated scowl, he gave her another lazy smirk, "in time darling I will release them, of that you have my word. But first we talk."

"About what?"

He took another step in her direction and she tilted her sword towards him again, intent on reminding him that she was armed with a weapon and willing to use it.

"Come now love, do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?"

She frowned at that, hating herself for nearly shuddering at the sound of his eerily familiar lilting voice. And mentally berating herself for stalling, she made the quick decision to go with the element of surprise. Raising her sword, she charged at him, momentarily stunned when he deflected her blow easily with his hook before pushing her backwards with a swift kick to her middle causing her to gasp in surprise and nearly stumble to her knees.

Unsheathing his own sword, he shot her a devastating grin, "I must admit I was hoping you'd choose the hard way."

Emma scowled at that and regaining her balance, charged him again, the clanging of their swords ringing throughout the forest as they blocked blow after blow, circling each other with narrowed eyes and grunted curses. His movements were calculated and effortless, hers stilted and unsure. She knew she was at the disadvantage…she wasn't a master swordsman and the dark captain clearly oozed skills with the weapon he held in his hand.

She'd give anything for her damned gun.

"You have good form love…must have had a decent teacher." Hook commented, easily stepping away from her slashing blade as she swung her sword at him hard. "But you're all over the place, you'll tire yourself out before I've even begun to have any real fun."

She frowned as he spoke, her competitive nature annoyed by his words but before she could retort back with a biting remark, he swung at her, barely giving her a chance to block his hit. And with a sly grin he shot her a maddening wink before making a quick circular motion with his wrist—the momentum of his sword spinning against hers propelling her weapon out of her hand and onto the ground.

Wide-eyed she stared at him for a moment, and then, without thought, lunged at him fast. And her world spun and shifted for a moment as he flipped her over, the breath whooshing out of her when she landed hard on her back. Dazed, she watched as he stuck his blade into the ground next to him, and shaking herself from her momentary shock, she made a move to flip over and grab her sword, letting out a string of violent curses when he pounced on her. Pushing her onto her back once again, he lowered himself even further and quickly straddled her, smirking as he looked down at her with raised eyebrows. Angry and annoyed, she raised her hands to shove him off, but he was faster and had the advantage, and in a move so quick she barely had time to register it in her brain, he grabbed her wrists in one hand and locked them above her head, bringing them into an unfortunately intimate position. Faintly she could hear Mary Margret struggle even more vigorously against her ropes as Hook grinned down at her and she could only imagine the terror in her mother's eyes as she saw her daughter in such a vulnerable position. But as she stared up into Hook's stormy gaze, she noted with some sense of awe, that she still wasn't afraid of him.

"What do you want?"

"I told you…I want to talk. But like always you're so bloody stubborn…" he trailed off and the look he gave her was tender and gentle. "I suppose some things never change though." He said it softly, his voice near wistful.

Emma swallowed with some difficulty, trying hard to concentrate on her predicament and how to get out of it. Needing to focus on anything other than the way his body felt over hers, the clear blue of his eyes, and the overwhelming feeling that somewhere in the farthest corner of her mind, buried deep…

_She knew him._

"Get off of me Hook."

"My apologies darling, but I made a promise to you once…and I always keep my promises."

She shook her head as her throat tightened up on her and her heart stopped beating for a moment. His words were so sincere, the cocky and confident attitude gone, replaced with something honest and bordering on desperate.

"What—what did you promise?" She asked softly, unsure why she was playing along.

His lips twitched into a sad smile, "that I'd find you."

Her stomach jumped at his words and her mouth went dry. "What are you talking about?" She hated how weak and small her voice sounded.

Hook ignored her question and as he looked into her eyes, she found herself having trouble breathing properly, the atmosphere suddenly too intense, his stare overwhelmingly unwavering. "I'm quite certain you didn't drink it of your own free will." He murmured, seemingly more to himself than to her. "That has to count for something."

As he mused over his own words, staring down at her with his unblinking blue gaze, she took a moment to gather her wits. He was making no sense and she didn't have time to let him work through his crazy musings. She had a son to get back to and people counting on her in Storybrooke. In short, she needed to end this utter ridiculousness...she needed to get the hell away from him. And with her resolve firmly back in place, she gave herself a mental pat on the back and in a move she knew he wasn't anticipating, brought her knee up hard, catching him the groin. Since he had her fairly well pinned the action wasn't enough to get him to release her, if anything it merely surprised him. But it _was_ enough for her to take advantage of his now loose hold on her wrists and his momentarily stunned state. With as much force as she could manage she ripped her hands out of his grasp and thrust her hips upwards fast, forcing him off of her and rolling them over, she pinned him beneath her so that she was the one straddling him. Before he could retaliate, her hand quickly snaked down her leg and grabbing the extra dagger hidden in her boot, she whipped it out, lowering it to his neck just as he attempted to struggle.

"Don't move," she said, somewhat out of breath and panting hard—the thrill of victory coursing its way through her veins.

To her surprise, he smiled wide, his eyes twinkling in admiration. "You're bloody brilliant…amazing." He told her with a stinted laugh, his tone full of mirth.

Emma gave him a hard look, raising a brow as he continued to smile. Something inside of her softened a bit at the smile while a voice in her head whispered that _that_ exact grin was one she'd never been able to resist. "You're awfully chipper for a guy who just lost the advantage and now has a knife to his throat." She told him, her tone flat, betraying none of her raging emotions.

He nodded, the action causing her blade to press even further into his skin, "Well perhaps just as you knew I would never hurt you...I know the same of you."

Emma opened her mouth to argue his words and found with some surprise that she was unable to. Deep down inside she knew he was right...she would never hurt him.

"How do you know—"

"You're somewhat of an open book love." He interrupted her, answering the unfinished question.

Feeling somewhat distressed, she eased up on the dagger at his throat and leaned forward ever so slightly. "Who are you?" she whispered, nearly wincing at the pleading tone in her voice.

His smile faded slowly, the blue of his eyes never wavering from her stare, "I can't tell you that my love."

She felt a pang of annoyance and frustration and leaning even closer the dagger in her hand all but forgotten, she narrowed her brow. "Why not?"

"Because I want you to remember."

She was so caught up in the emotions flashing in his eyes, the feel of his body beneath hers, the way their heaving breaths were mingling together, that she barely reacted when his good hand moved towards her dagger. Registering his slow movements, she froze for a moment, debating on how to respond when he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently pulled her hand down, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought the blade away from his neck and to the ground. When her fingers numbly released the knife, a part of her wanted to scream…because what the hell was she doing? And even as she struggled for an answer, another, larger more determined part, whispered for her to trust him, encouraged her to just _give in_. It was with a tiny reluctant sigh of defeat and a small nod of acceptance that she watched as he tossed the weapon out of her reach. And dimly she heard the muffled struggles of Mulan, Aurora and Mary Margaret again. A wry smile touched her lips—she could only imagine what they were thinking as they watched the scene before them unfold.

Hell, she didn't even know what _she_ was thinking.

"Emma," Hook whispered, his voice low and soft.

At the sound of her name warmly spoken from his lips, she focused her attention back on him and tilting her head to the side, she watched as he drew his hand back up and cupped the side of her cheek. In a move so gentle and tender it nearly took her breath away the pad of his thumb lightly brushed over her trembling lips as a sad smile ghosted over his mouth.

"Remember me Emma…remember _us."_

For reasons unknown to her, burning tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her mouth dipped down into a frown, her body grew hot, and her heart clenched almost painfully at his words.

_Remember_.

Closing her eyes she breathed in deeply and took a moment for herself, briefly forgetting the man beneath her, the women tied to the trees behind her, her priorities, why she was in Fairytale land in the first place and why she needed to get back home. She just took a moment to shut everything out and focused on herself—on what she wanted…what she needed.

_Remember._

She wanted to. Oh God how she wanted to.

_Remember._

Opening her eyes, she looked back down at Hook, and suddenly, without warning, something inside of her snapped, propelling her forward. And leaning down she caught him in a quick and hasty nearly frantic kiss.

The moment their lips touched something bright flashed behind her eyes.

Her world shifted out of focus fast before slowly everything became clear.

She remembered.

She remembered her birthday, sitting in her room depressed and alone. She remembered Peter—Neal…coming to her and taking her away. Neverland, with its brilliant skies and beautiful scenery. The lost boys, a tentative first kiss, being abandoned to the terrifying night, and finally collapsing on a beach after days of searching for the boy who had gained her trust and then had crushed it so easily.

Deepening the kiss, feeling his mouth open beneath hers, as his tongue gently danced with hers, the images continued to bombard her—a dark pirate with an infuriating smirk, a taunting chuckle and harsh words. Lingering touches, whispered secrets, bound hands, and an escape into the night. She remembered being captured—the feeling of miserable despair, of all-consuming loneliness…and then hope, terrifying hope, when he showed up to rescue her.

_I thought I'd lost you…you foolish girl._

The foggy veil that had clouded her mind for the past decade was quickly ripped away and finally she was able to see again…and with her new sight the shaky walls that she had built up around her heart came crashing down.

Killian.

She remembered _him._

"Oh God." She broke away on a sob, the hot feel of tears streaking down her cheeks as her body began to tremble and her lips quivered in disbelief. "Oh God." She whispered again placing a shaky hand to his cheek as she looked down at him through blurry tear-filled eyes.

"Emma…" His voice was tentative, his eyes searching and unsure.

"Killian." She smiled through her tears as his face broke into a knowing grin and leaning down she kissed him again. She kissed him passionately and without restraint, no longer unsure about who he was and what he was after. She kissed him because she _remembered_. And as she did, ten years worth of fear and hurt melted away as she let herself fall into him, continuing to ignore the muffled shouts of the trio behind her. He leaned up, eagerly wrapping his arms around her, and she threaded her fingers into his hair, feeling his cool hook pressing against the small of her back, and shuddering as more memories flooded her, reminding her of exactly how much she enjoyed the feeling of steel against skin.

Breaking away from the kiss again she lowered her forehead to his and let out a deep shuddering sigh. "You—you found me." She whispered; slight disbelief laced in her tone as she tried to grasp onto the fact that this was real… _he was real._

Killian pulled back a bit and running his good hand through her hair, gave her his signature smirk. "Always my love…I'll always find you Emma."

Emma laughed at that, the sound pure and magical in her own ears as his words lit a spark inside of her that she had thought had dimmed and faded away so many years ago. Closing her eyes, she kissed him again, slowly this time and breathing in deeply she couldn't help but sigh against his lips when he pulled her even closer, whispering words of love and promises into her skin. Words that up until a few moments ago she never would have believed— words that would have caused her to shudder in disdain and scoff in rejection. But now, as she sat wrapped in the embrace of the man whose love had somehow managed to find her after a decade of waiting with multiple realms separating them, she couldn't help the smile that graced her lips, while her heart fluttered and her very core burned with a love so deep and bright it nearly overwhelmed her.

And appreciating the sound of the sea that rang in her head, the scent of rum, and the feel of leather that overtook her senses, she held him closer, promising herself that she would never let go.

Her home had finally found her.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Epilogue: Always** _

__ Storybrooke Maine, sometime in the not so far off future _   
_

Emma closed her eyes, relishing the comforting silence that engulfed the small cabin.

_His ship._

Throughout the past couple of years it had remained a constant in her life.

It was a place for her to seek solace and refuge when things spiraled out of control or she just needed a moment alone—the grand vessel never failing in offering her its peaceful sanctuary. It was a place where they'd made love more times than she could remember and she smirked thinking about just how big the ship was and just how thorough Killian had been in making sure they accomplished their feat in leaving no surface left untouched. Glancing around the small cabin her tiny smirk turned into a warm smile. It was also a place where, on clear and quiet nights, they could often be found laying on the decks looking up at the glittering stars—Killian always searching with a twinkle in his eyes for the Second Star to the Right.

It was her home.

No matter the little cottage at the edge of the woods that she had purchased shortly after coming back to Storybrooke from the Enchanted Forest.

The Jolly Roger, _his ship_ , the place where she had met him, the place where he had kept her, and the place where she had eventually come back to…it was her true home.

Turning full circle, Emma allowed her gaze to sweep over the rich walls, the mahogany desk, and the small bed one last time before lifting her chin, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep calming breath. And making her way towards the door, she gave the room one last lingering glance before leaving the cabin.

Yes this was her true home and she supposed it only seemed fitting that today of all days she had returned to it once again.

* * *

_ Enchanted Forest, some time ago _

She hadn't expected the wave of emotions that had flooded her upon seeing his ship again.

Standing on the dock Emma stared at the large vessel watching as her mother, Mulan, and Aurora walked ahead of her and attempted to board it, their movements hesitant and unsure. Almost proudly the ship swayed in the sea—the water gently lapping around it in soft breaking waves. Expelling a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, she tried to relax as she noticed how her throat had tightened almost painfully while hot tears annoyingly pricked at her eyes. She wanted to blame it on exhaustion—since being reunited with Killian she had barely had a moment to process everything. On top of her raging emotions and newly surfaced memories, Mulan, Aurora and Mary Margaret were still trying to figure out her relationship with the dark pirate captain. The speculative glances and never ending questions were beginning to wear on her…hell the entire Enchanted Forest was beginning to wear on her. She wasn't sure how much longer she could last in the curse-ridden land.

Storybrooke never sounded so good.

And Killian claimed to have a way home—she was holding him to that.

"Is she everything you remember love?"

He had come up behind her on the dock, she had heard the approaching sounds of his boots clanking against the wooden planks, but even so he had still managed to surprise her. Maybe it was his voice—soft and low, just barely above a whisper in her ear; at the husky and deep sound she could barely contain the shiver that swept through her body fast. For the most part he had given her an unusual amount of space—he too seemed to be processing that not only had they finally been reunited but that she was also the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming… _The Savior._

Emma had to admit the look on his face had been rather priceless when Mary Margaret…Snow White...herself had revealed the information to him with a warning glare in her eyes and a tight lipped frown pulling at her usually soft features.

Bringing her attention back to his question, she tilted her head in his direction. "Yes…it's—"

" _She."_

Rolling her eyes, Emma fully turned towards him—a tiny smirk playing across her lips. _"She_ …is just as beautiful as I remember." Glancing back at the ship for a moment her mouth dipped down into a sudden frown. "But seriously Killian how is The Jolly Roger going to get us back to Storybrooke?"

Killian flashed her a grin, reminding her of the charming, seductive and dangerous pirate she had fallen for so many years ago. And reaching into his shirt, he pulled out what looked like a necklace with some kind of bean or large seed attached to it.

"What is _that_?"

"A bean."

Sighing Emma ran a hand down her face and up again, pinching the bridge of her nose, she shot him a wary look. "A bean… _that's_ your plan?"

"Aye." At her incredulous look he chuckled, "don't look so distressed darling…it's magic of course, the last one in all the realms. I stole it from a giant when I scaled a beanstalk for Cora…it can create portals…I've used one much like this before."

Ignoring his last comment, her eyes sought out his blue gaze, "I still can't believe you were working with her." She said softly, almost hesitantly.

A frown touched his lips and something dark flashed in his eyes before he quickly replaced it with his signature smirk. "Only to get back to you my love."

"But—how did you know I was here? How did you know I was traveling with Mar—Snow White and the others?"

He stared at her hard for a moment, his blue gaze burning into hers, "Cora told me about your unusual group and—" he paused and gave a light almost dubious laugh. "I could feel it Emma… _I felt you._ I knew you were with them. _"_

Swallowing thickly, she searched his eyes, letting their blue depths pull her in. But the pure and honest intensity quickly became too much and she looked away from his unwavering stare with a shaky sigh—the hot tears she had felt gathering in her eyes only moments ago threatening to spill over as his simple declaration echoed in her brain.

_I could feel it Emma…I felt you._

He had spent ten years stuck in the lonely and abandoned land fighting to get back to her and she had spent those same years in a daze…having forgotten him completely.

It didn't seem fair—so much time had been stolen from them.

"Don't dwell on the past darling."

The soft-spoken statement tore her from her thoughts and she tentatively glanced up at him with a tiny forced smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Open book." He told her with a grin and a shrug before she could question his words "Don't let actions beyond your control fester inside of you."

"Says the revenge-minded pirate."

He grinned, his teeth flashing a bright white and his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Aye…point taken lass." Holding her gaze once more, a shadow passed over his features. Stepping towards her, he reached out his good hand and softly cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her skin in a gesture so familiar she couldn't stop the lone tear that escaped her eye. As it made a trail down her cheek, his gaze narrowed, and his mouth dipped into a frown before he gently brushed it away with a tender touch. "I hate to see you despair Emma."

"It's just a lot to process."

"That it is."

"I missed you." She whispered softly, briefly allowing herself to forget that her friends were waiting on the ship, that she was supposed to be a tough no nonsense woman, that she was _The Savior_ and Cora was somewhere out there trying to get to Storybrooke where her friends and her son… _their son_ …were waiting. She forgot all of that, and for a moment she allowed herself to accept the gravity of all that had happened between them—of all that had been lost and then found again. "I know I didn't remember you, Neverland, _anything_ …but at times there were these flashes, these glimpses of _something._ I think there was always this piece of me that knew you were out there and despite everything it kept trying to get back to you." She shook her head and looked down at the ground suddenly embarrassed by her words. "I don't know…or maybe I was just going crazy."

Almost immediately, she felt the cool steel of his hook under her chin, slowly he forced her to look up at him, and she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from embarrassing herself even further when she saw his gentle smile and his stormy eyes shining with what she knew he'd never admit to as tears. "Let's go home lass."

_Home._

She knew that there was still so much to explain. She needed to tell him about Henry, explain why she had given him up and how she had come back into his life. She needed to explain Regina and Gold and _everything_ , but right now, for a little while longer, she chose to be selfish. And closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips against his, smiling when immediately his arms came around her and he pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss.

Ten years had passed but the familiarity of his embrace— _the rightness_ of it hadn't faded.

And breaking away from his knowing lips, she suppressed a small laugh when he groaned in protest and wrapped his arms even tighter around her. With a tiny smirk, she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, inhaling the spicy scent of him as she held him close for just a moment longer.

"Okay" she whispered softly, "let's go home."

* * *

_ Storybrooke Maine, sometime in the not so distant past _

When she had told him about Henry the variety of emotions that had crossed his dark features had worried her—his emotional turmoil so clearly stamped across his face for her to see. Shock, anger, surprise, sadness, it had all flashed there, plain as day. Until slowly something else had taken over, realization dawned in his eyes and his hands had gripped her shoulders tightly as his blue gazed glowed with the beginnings of something new.

Awe, happiness... _hope._

"We have a son together." He had whispered; the words laced with a heavy dose of wonder, his eyes flashing bright.

And at that moment she had known everything was going to be okay.

_They were going to be okay._

Watching as Killian tentatively approached Henry as he sat on a bench on the docks quietly looking out at the rough water, Emma stood off to the side holding her breath at the scene unfolding before her. Without a word, Killian sat down beside their son and settling on the bench looked out at the sea with him.

After a moment or two of silence, Henry turned to him, his gray eyes appraising the man sitting next to him with unmasked curiosity, "so you're my dad."

She saw Killian tense at that, his good hand clenching into a fist at his side as his focus turned away from the water and to the boy. "That I am lad."

Tilting his head to the side, Henry looked down at his hands fiddling with them nervously. "And you're Captain Hook?"

"I am."

"Are you a villain?"

Killian's smile was bright, his eyes flashed with amusement, "Some would say so."

"But my mom doesn't think so."

"On her good days… _no_ she does not." he paused for a brief moment, glancing at her quickly before looking back at the boy. "She's the reason I decided to switch sides so to say…to give up some, well, _most_ of my villainous ways."

"Most?"

Killian shrugged somewhat carelessly and shot him a reckless smile, "I am still a pirate lad."

Henry grinned back at that and when he looked over at her, Emma could barely contain the overwhelming emotions that swept through her as she took in the sight of them together. Smiling back at him with an encouraging nod, she continued to watch as Henry drew his gaze back to the man next to him.

"Do you love her?"

"More than anything."

"She said she was tricked into drinking a potion…that she forgot about you."

"Aye."

At the dark note that entered his voice, Emma cringed, knowing that while Killian had promised to stay away from Gold and to not seek out Pan, he was still furious about the potion, the need for revenge ran hot through his veins.

"She lied to me though…said that my dad was a fireman."

"She told you what she thought was best."

"It was still a lie."

The words stung, and looking away briefly, Emma closed her eyes for a moment attempting to calm her raging emotions.

"Yes Henry it was a lie. But the bloke she had believed to be your father was decidedly not. Anything she would have told you would have been untrue. She was doing her best."

She could tell Killian was trying to mask the frigid tone in his voice as he smoothed over the subject of Neal—his rigid spine, the flash of anger in his eyes and the way he defended her to their son only made her love him all the more.

Henry nodded still appearing uncertain but seemingly absorbing Killian's words. "I know...that's why I'm really not all _that_ mad…she's had a tough life. She thinks I'm too young to understand...but I get it." At his revelation he looked up, furrowing his brow as he considered the pirate. "Are you going to stay…here in Storybrooke…with us?"

"I'd like to."

At his fast answer Emma felt her heart clench a bit while something warm spread through her body.

"Do—do you want to..." Henry stopped, suddenly looking uncertain. "do you want to be my dad...like I mean…you know _really_ be my dad."

As the question left his lips, Emma's eyes clouded—tears abruptly hindering her vision, she let out a shaky breath. Her head felt full and her body trembled ever so slightly…she was just barely able to hear Killian's soft sigh. And blinking rapidly, she took a hesitant step closer as the pirate closed his eyes briefly before looking down at their son.

"Aye Henry I do…very much so."

The little boy smiled up at him, his grin big and toothy, and Emma was torn between wanting to drop to the ground in a heaping sobbing mess and wanting to throw her head back with a bark of happy laughter as Killian's grin matched their son's—the smiles jarringly identical. Pulling herself together with a wavering sigh she took another step towards the duo.

"So how exactly did you meet my mom?"

At the seemingly innocent question, Emma narrowed her eyes slightly at Killian's answering laugh. Shooting a warning glare his way, she held his defiantly amused stare for a moment before giving Henry a tight smile as she approached the bench fast.

"I think that's a story for another day kid." She said lightly, her eyes still focused on the smirking pirate.

He merely raised a dark eyebrow at her in an unspoken challenge before glancing back at Henry with a wide grin. "I saved her from becoming a meal to the sea serpents and then took her prisoner aboard my ship."

"Oh for the love of—" Emma muttered under her breath, as she brought her hands to her temples and squeezed tightly.

"The Jolly Roger?"

"Aye."

"Why did you take her prisoner?"

Killian grinned, the smile smug and infuriating. "I'm not sure if you are aware of this...but your mother can be an infuriating imp."

Henry nodded and chuckled at that, shooting her a guilty look afterwards, to which Emma merely shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands in mock defeat. "Oh no, please don't stop on my account." Taking the last few steps over to the bench she stood over Killian, and looking down at him, attempted to give him a firm look, knowing in the back of her mind she was horribly failing. The sight of the two of them together had weakened her usually tough and unyielding demeanor into a crumbling pathetic mess.

She was going soft.

"For the record he didn't save me…his crew did. And I was just sleeping on the beach…I wasn't in any real danger."

"Yet." Killian scoffed, causing Henry to chuckle good-naturedly and drawing a wink from the pirate. "And I do believe I did end up saving you once or twice there are a few gnomes darling that suddenly come to mind."

She scowled at that, the frown threatening to break into a grin. "Oh please by all means tell our son how you saved me AFTER I escaped you." Shaking her head at the utter ridiculousness of the conversation, she blew out an exasperated breath. "Listen, I'm heading back, I'll leave you two alone to talk. Meet me at the station in an hour or two…we'll grab dinner at Granny's after." Ruffling Henry's hair, she gave him an affectionate smile. "See ya in a bit kid." And turning back to Killian she raised her brows and bent down towards him, smirking at how he naturally seemed to lean into her almost without thought. "Keep it clean _Hook."_

Killian chuckled at the use of his moniker, and scoffing up at her, he shot her a wounded expression, "He's our son _princess,_ I simply plan on relaying the glorious tale of the daring, devious and _handsome_ pirate and the stubborn beautiful lass who stole his heart…I'm not looking to scar the boy."

With small chuckle and a roll of her eyes, she nodded and turning from the pair, walked away leaving son and father to get acquainted.

By the time she made it back to the police station she barely noticed her damp and cool cheeks wet with tears, the light feeling in her heart was so overwhelming.

* * *

Storybrooke didn't stay quiet for long.

Cora had found them.

And on the night of the battle that had been brewing for days, weeks, months, years, decades, _a lifetime_ …Emma tried to push away the fear that she was about to lose everything she had just recently found again.

It didn't take long for her fears to become a near reality.

Everything happened so fast.

One minute she was fighting Cora's newly formed army of zombies and enchanted followers and the next she was frozen in place—a powerful invisible force holding her feet firmly to the ground. Panicked, her eyes swept the makeshift battlefield, roaming over the faces she recognized, barely able to consider those she didn't. Her heart hammered painfully against her chest as she watched Mary Margaret... _her mother_ …shooting arrows at the living while David stood by her side wildly swinging his sword and decapitating the dead. Regina was shooting curse after curse towards the incoming threat, her body protecting Henry, her voice carrying in the howling wind, pleading for her mother to stop, to leave them alone and to listen to reason. And Killian...he stood near their son, protecting the side Regina was unable to cover, his face dark and grim as he fought off the enemy with quick and calculated movements, his actions seemingly effortless, his determination and ruthlessness for his opponents rolling off him in waves of near visible anger.

Feeling the hold on her tighten, Emma tore her gaze away from her friends and family, her eyes immediately finding Cora as she almost leisurely walked towards her, completely disregarding the fighting taking place around her—a frighteningly sinister smile on her face and an evil gleam in her eyes. Struggling against the invisible ropes that bound her, she refused to let the witch see the fear that she felt coursing through her body, forcing her features to remain calm and impassive.

"Such a tragic shame Miss Swan." Cora spoke softly, somehow her singsong voice carried through the wind, mockingly echoing in her head.

Stopping her useless struggles, Emma watched as she drew closer, out of the corner of her eye, she could see her family gaining the upper hand—Regina had blasted much of Cora's army with a powerful spell, but the dark sorceress paid no attention to her dwindling forces, her eyes only on Emma.

"What's that?" She asked her voice low, her breathing becoming somewhat shallow as the grip tightened painfully around her body. Feeling lightheaded, she let her eyes dart to the side, needing to reassure herself that her family was still okay. And meeting Regina's gaze she watched as her eyes widened when she realized Emma was stuck in her mother's magical grasp. The former mayor made a move towards them but in that instant a fresh wave of undead soldiers moved frighteningly close to Henry and she saw the determined resolve flash in the younger witch's dark eyes. And unable to stand the apology that lurked in her stare, Emma looked away, drawing her attention back to the woman in front of her.

Cora smiled at her, an emotionless grin that didn't quite reach her eyes, "It's a shame that your friends, your family, your boy… _your lover_ …will have to watch you die."

At her cruel words, Emma attempted one last time to break free of the unyielding hold and realizing she wasn't going anywhere, she sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep her fear at bay as Cora raised her hand with a wicked cackle and a triumphant yell.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

She heard Regina desperately yell something at her mother and watched as Killian glanced up and made eye contact with her, his eyes growing wide as awareness settled across his features fast. Henry stood from his hiding place on the ground and shook his head frantically screaming her name, while dimly she heard the shouts and cries from her parents and friends.

And bringing her attention back to Cora she made eye contact with the evil woman, watching as she flung her arm out fast; a blast of dark magic shooting from her fingertips and heading straight towards her. Closing her eyes, she waited for the curse. Only vaguely acknowledging Killian's shouted _NO!_ she whispered her goodbyes to him and Henry and braced herself for impact.

But the hit never came.

A shrieking howl tore through the night and Emma shot her eyes open fast. Immediately registering that the hold on her had been lifted, her gaze fell on two figures lying on the ground.

One was petite and motionless, the other dark and long, the latter moving ever so slightly—muffled groans could just barely be heard whispered into the night. Shooting her eyes up, she saw the zombies around them falling, Cora's followers were shaking their heads slightly, their expressions confused and dazed as if they had just woken up from a strange sleep. Mary Margaret and David were holding each other and Granny and Whale were accessing Ruby's injuries. Regina standing over the smaller figure, was gazing down at it with tears streaming down her face and magic sparking from her fingertips and Henry was kneeling by her side, his face pale and tight as he looked down at the larger frame, his small fingers grasped around a limp hand as he quietly cried. Something cruel and heavy weighted itself in Emma's gut when Henry lifted his tearstained face to her, his eyes desperate and lost. Shaking herself out of her startled shock, she hesitantly made her way over to them as the cold prickling feeling of dread crept up on her slowly.

Killian was missing.

He wasn't with the group.

There were two bodies on the ground.

Cora was one of them.

_Killian was missing._

Her body trembling, she shuffled towards them; there was a dull roaring in her head and her eyes burned with the oncoming threat of tears.

"He—he ran in front of the curse." Henry said softly, standing as she stopped next to them. "It hit him and then bounced back hitting Cora square in the chest…he's just barely breathing…Emma—mom I don't think he's…."

She tuned the rest of Henry's words out.

Killian had been hit by the curse.

He had saved her.

He was dying.

"No." she whispered softly, shaking her head frantically. _"No."_ dropping to her knees next to his near lifeless body, Emma looked down at him and grabbed his hand in hers squeezing tight and wincing when it remained limp in her grip—not even a slight flinch to fuel her hope. "No. No. No. No." She moaned in disbelief as she bent over his body and pressed her forehead against his. Gripping the sides of his face while tears freely flowed down her cheeks, she painfully gasped for breath. "Oh God Killian, no." She said softly, desperately. And closing her eyes, she memorized the feel of his skin against hers and inhaled the lingering scent of the sea that even now seemed to surround him. "Please wake up. Wake up. _Please._ You can't leave me _._ Not when I've just found you again. Oh God please don't do this. _Wake up."_

Opening her eyes she straightened a bit and looked at those who had gathered around them, Mary Margaret was crying softly into David's chest, Regina was staring blankly at her fallen mother, Whale was holding Ruby and…Gold—he was standing near the trees off to the side. She almost scoffed at the sight of him—like the coward he was he had shown up when the battle had ended.

Holding his stare, she clenched her teeth together, the feeling of both despair and anger battling inside of her. "Do something." she forced the words out, her voice hoarse and raspy

When he didn't answer, nearly crazed with grief and the need to act, she whipped her gaze around to the rest of them. "Quit standing there and somebody help me! Somebody do something!" When they all continued to stand motionless, their gazes pitying and remorseful, she let out a choked sob before pinning Gold with a withering glare again. _"Heal him."_

To his credit the dark man looked genuinely shaken and giving her a tight-lipped smile, he raised his hands, the gesture one of both surrender and defeat. "I cannot. He took a hard hit. The magic is too dark, even for me…I'm sorry there is nothing I can do."

"But he's alive…he's—he's still breathing. You can't just let him die! DAMNIT STOP STANDING AROUND! SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!" She screamed at them, unsure why no one was jumping to action, why they were giving up on him so easily.

Cursing them all, she glanced down at him again, her eyes frantically drinking in the sight of his face—it looked relatively peaceful save for the blood and bruises that marred his dark looks. His lips were parted slightly, and his breathing was low and shallow—a slight rattle could be heard in his chest. At the battered sight of him, a low anguished sob broke past her lips and slowly she ran gentle fingers down his cheek, over his forehead and through his hair—needing to touch him, afraid if she didn't he would slip away forever. "You can't leave me…I can't lose you again. Please, Oh God Killian please don't do this to me."

She sobbed quietly the sorrow and pain nearly unbearable as she willed him to open his eyes, as she begged him _to live_. _To choose her._ But no matter her pleas, he remained unmoving, his breathing growing more labored by the second. Leaning over him again, refusing to give up on him, she let her lips ghost over his, concentrating with ever fiber of her being on her love for him. "Please Killian, don't leave us. _Don't leave me_ …I love you….I love you… _I love you._ " The words tumbled from her lips soft and broken. And with the simple and true statement she interlocked her fingers with his and lightly placed their joined hands over his heart before closing her eyes and pressing her lips against his in a gentle loving kiss.

The surge she felt rush through her when their lips met was powerful, intense and so pure that she was nearly knocked back with the force of it. Her hair billowed out behind her as a strong gust of wind blew over them fast, taking her breath away and sending a shudder coursing through her body. And in that same instant the flash of bright light that flared behind her closed eyelids nearly blinded her as images of she and Killian flickered in her mind and sparked a light inside of her, warming her from the inside out.

She felt love, she felt hope, she felt _life._

At his gasp Emma's eyes flew open and looking down, she watched as Killian sucked in a deep breath and then another before opening his eyes and meeting her watery gaze—his hazy blue stare full of wonder and awe.

"Oh God." She whispered, her voice shaky and hesitant. "You—you came back to me." Shocked disbelief and overwhelming joy both fought for dominance in her tired brain as her body began to tremble with the intense gravity and heavy weight of what had just occurred. "You came back to me." She said again, louder this time, as her fingers tentatively traced the contours of his face.

His lips twitched up into a smirk and his breathing evened out. Reaching his good hand up he cupped the side of her face gently, swiping his thumb across her cheek. "Always."

And with that one simple statement she let out an incredulous little cry which turned into bark of watery laughter before leaning down again and pressing her lips to his once more.

And her joy only glowed that much brighter when he instantly responded to her, their shared love healing them both.

* * *

"Dammit Killian."

At the sound of her cursing his name, she watched as he lazily raised a brow while idly making his way around the sheriff's station.

"Something troubling you my love?"

With a roll of her eyes, she sighed at his easy tone. "Cut the crap Killian…you stole Leroy's boat… _again_."

At her blunt statement, Killian leaned against the bars of the cell he stood in front of and flashed her a vaguely amused smile while his blue eyes stared at her unflinchingly, seemingly unaffected by her accusation. "Borrowed."

"Oh really? Like you _borrowed_ Ms. Pearl's diamond broach last month"

"It was a lovely broach."

"Killian."

_"Emma."_

His hypnotizing voice sang her name and trying to block out the way the low tone gently wrapped itself around her, she shook her head and rounded her desk, making her way over to him fast."You realize I'm going to have to arrest you… _again._ "

"I would despair if you didn't." He said softly, almost seductively—his smile widened slowly and his eyes darkened considerably. Mentally she cursed him for the way her body reacted to the lilting voice and the unwavering stare—desire began to heat in her body even as her brain cried for her to focus on the topic at hand.

The love of her life, her son's father, was a thief... _a goddamned pirate._

Shaking herself, she pinned him with a glare and closed the distance between them, her strides quick and full of purpose. Stopping just short of him, she poked him in the chest hard, scowling when he merely curled his fingers around her hand and brought it to his lips for a light lingering kiss.

"Let go."

With a smirk and a nod he obliged her request, releasing her hand and almost unthinkingly she sighed at the loss of contact, "I gotta at least hold you for a night...let things blow over with Leroy."

The grin he shot her was devilish to say the least and it took everything in her not to pin him to the bars he was so casually leaning against and take everything she knew they both wanted. The battle of wills…it was a game they constantly played and for once she was going to come out on top—perhaps literally and figuratively.

"Yes well darling, if you are trying to sway me from a life of crime I suggest you not indulge in such wicked acts with the villains you lock away. If I recall the last time you had me in your cage, we spent the most interesting of nights together" Inclining his head towards her, he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, causing her breath to come in sharp as images of their last heated night together in the cell flashed before her eyes. "I hadn't any idea you were so… _flexible_ Sheriff. _"_ His words feathered across her lips warm and intoxicating—her body nearly pulsed with lust.

"I hate you." She whispered halfheartedly, poorly concealing the amusement that lurked in her tone.

"Yes, well, you're a terrible liar Swan."

And in a move so fast she nearly missed it, his good hand snaked down her side and grabbed at the handcuffs that sat on her belt. Quickly he spun them around so that she was pressed up against the bars. Momentarily surprised by the speed of his actions, she made a move to react but he was faster and raising her hands over her head, he snapped one cuff on her wrist and looping the other cuff through the bars, locked that one on her other wrist, effectively trapping her against the cell.

"You really have a fetish for tying me up."

At his answering grin he stepped back, seemingly admiring his work.

"I enjoy having you at my mercy."

"Killian, don't be an idiot…I'm working…let me go."

"Oh lass I have every intention of seeing you let go…multiple times... _over and over and over again_."

She swallowed thickly as his burning eyes met hers, his stare full of unmasked want and desire. "This isn't funny." She whispered to him, her voice coming out trembling slightly and depressingly weak.

A devastatingly dark grin was his only answer, and as he stepped closer towards her, brushing his body against hers in a soft touch, he lowered his head slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. And sighing in welcomed defeat, she lifted her chin and flashed him a vaguely amused smile before allowing his lips to claim hers in a bruising and passionate kiss.

* * *

Neal had found his way to Storybrooke.

Running as fast as she could towards Granny's diner, Emma said a silent prayer to whoever was listening that _he_ wouldn't do anything stupid.

She prayed that he remembered her…his son… _his family._

But as she kicked up her pace, she couldn't help but acknowledge that vengeance was a hard thing for the pirate to let go of. Three hundred years had just barely been enough time for him to shed himself of his bloodlust for Gold. Three hundred years before he had allowed himself to learn to love again. She couldn't imagine a mere decade had been long enough for him to move on from Neal's actions in Neverland and after.

Add the discovery of Henry to the mix and she feared soon enough she'd be making an arrest for murder.

Rounding the corner fast, she skidded to a halt, wincing as she saw the small crowd that had gathered outside of the diner. Her mother and David were speaking to Killian in soft calm voices, Granny was busy trying to shoo the curious eyes away, while Ruby held onto Henry trying to tear him away from the scene unfolding in front of them.

And Killian…

He looked every bit the villain his namesake claimed him to be, his hook pressed threateningly to Neal's throat, his good hand fisted into the lapels of his coat. He had the former lost boy shoved up against the outside of the diner, his eyes flashing angrily, his face contorted into a furious scowl.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't run you through."

Neal calmly looked back at his attacker, his face betraying little emotion. "I can't."

"So you welcome your death then." Killian spat his voice barely recognizable, the rage dripping from it was so overwhelming.

Stepping forward, realizing how fast things could escalate, Emma sucked in a deep breath before speaking, "Killian." She said softly, attempting to keep her own emotions in check—her mind slightly hazy after seeing Neal for the first time in nearly a decade.

"Not now Swan I have a pest to rid us of."

She sighed at his curt tone, her back going up a bit at his dismissive brush off. "Killian, please he's not worth it."

The dark chuckle that followed the statement sent a chilling shiver down her spine, the sound was so sinister and threatening. It was amazing how right before her eyes he had transformed into the infamous man of legend.

"That's bloody rich. If I recall my love he abandoned you _twice_ , he stole your memories…he tore away the last bloody ten years from us." Leaning closer, Killian's eyes blazed as his hook pressed even further into Neal's neck. "I have a son!" He shouted into his face. "I have a son and you cheated me out of the last ten years with him!" Pulling him forward fast, he quickly slammed him against the wall again, causing Neal to grunt in pain with the contact. "Ten years without her Pan! And the first time I laid eyes on her, she didn't remember me! Ten years and I find out she had our baby in a bloody prison and gave him up because she had no other sodding choice!"

"I'm sorry." came Neal's choked reply.

And Emma winced at the sound, her eyes widening as Killian merely laughed off the broken apology.

"You're sorry? You're sorry!" He dug his hook further into his skin and when Neal gasped, Emma swore under her breath watching as a faint line of blood appeared.

Knowing she had to do something fast, she moved towards the pair quickly and placing a tentative hand on Killian's arm, she almost flinched when his gaze swung in her direction—his blue eyes wild and nearly crazed.

"Stay out of this Emma."

"Like hell I will. You're not killing him not on my watch…let him go Killian." Her voice had taken on the rough and no nonsense edge she often used when implementing her sheriff duties.

"This is none of your concern _princess_."

"Oh cut the bullshit…this is my only concern right now." Gripping his arm, she squeezed it lightly, trying to get through to him. "You need to back away from him Killian, calm down."

"He stole you from me Emma."

At his words, she closed her eyes briefly, a fresh wave of pain sweeping through her as she thought about the past ten years without him, without Henry. "I know." She whispered softly and lifting her gaze to Neal, she gave him a sad little smile, noticing with some slight surprise how Killian had eased up a bit with his hook. "Why did you do it?" She asked quietly, her heart pounding as her gaze met Neal's dark and familiar brown.

The former lost boy sighed softly and with a shrug of his shoulders, frowned—his entire face falling with the action. "I—I loved you."

At the declaration, Emma's mouth dropped open slightly and she took a step closer to him, her hand still firmly gripping Killian's arm. "You abandoned me."

Neal swallowed, "Look I—I can't defend my actions okay. I messed up. I messed up bad. I was never supposed to take you to Neverland. I was never supposed to get to know you at all...it was never part of the plan. A mutual friend of ours hunted me down… _August..._ " Her eyes widened at the name and her world seemed to slightly shift and spin. Dazed by the revelation that this thing had been in motion long before she had ever even suspected it, she shook herself, trying to clear her buzzing head, attempting to gather her suddenly scattered thoughts. "He told me about you…about the curse. And because you were part of _that_ world…I wanted nothing to do with you at first. Anything connected to my dad was bad news to me. I had spend almost my entire life running from him…hiding. But August was pretty _convincing_ and asked to me to just get you out of the house you were in...away from your abusive foster father." She felt Killian tense at that and squeezing his arm, she attempted to reassure him silently as Neal continued on. "When I saw you…you looked so lost and broken and I didn't think it was fair that you had this big task to complete. It seemed so wrong, so forced. So I made the split decision to take you away…to Neverland—"

"And then…" Emma interrupted, "you abandoned me."

Neal sighed and nodded, looking worn and defeated. "When you started talking about going back to your world I panicked. I was angry and confused. I had fallen in love with you Emma and when you asked to go home I immediately thought I wasn't good enough…I resented you for not thinking Neverland was good enough."

"So you left me?" Emma's voice had raised an octave, out of the corner of her eye she saw David tense and heard Mary Margaret's soft sigh. Dimly she tried to remember that she was supposed to be the calm one.

"I had always meant to come back for you."

"You left me alone in Neverland!" she hissed, moving even closer to the man who had betrayed her. "You know better than anyone how terrifying, how dangerous that place can be."

"I made a bad choice! I was a kid."

"A two-hundred and fifty year old kid!' She nearly screamed at him, her hand dropping from Killian's arm as she took another step towards him, disregarding the murmurs that were filtering through the crowd behind her.

"I made a mistake…I was a coward."

"Just like your bloody father." Killian muttered earning a dark glare from Neal.

"I came back for her…but by that time I did she was already with _you."_ Focusing his attention back on her, Neal shot her a deep, searching look. "The lost boys and I…we planned on rescuing you, we spent weeks trying to figure out how. I just wanted to attempt to overrun the ship and grab you but the pixies and the boys talked me out of it. Word had spread through the island that you were Hook's most prized possession. Rumor had it he had killed another man who had tried to touch you."

"I wasn't his _possession_ and he didn't kill anyone on my account." Emma muttered, shuddering when memories of the incident Neal was referring to surfaced in her brain. She remembered how angry she had been at Killian for nearly beating his crewmember to death and how livid he had been at her for walking the decks alone and without permission.

"Emma I meant to get you back home. I realized how selfish I had been...how much you were needed here. I was wrong to try to keep you in Neverland. But then when I finally saw you with him, after weeks of planning out how to save you...you looked happy. You were sword fighting with him on the Jolly Roger. He was teaching you and you were laughing at him and he was laughing back. In the short time I had known you, I had never seen you look so happy. And in the many years I had known Hook I had never seen him look so free." Neal's eyes were shining with unshed tears, his skin pale—the expression of the lost boy he once was stamped across his features in lonely sadness. "The next time I saw you…you were falling from the cliffs and into the water. I rushed to you…saved you from the mermaids, but you were already broken and battered and I knew there wasn't much I could do. I screamed for the pixies to come help you but their light had dimmed and they had disappeared into the trees. They refused my request. I knew you had to go home...I knew you could get the proper care here. So I carried you to Hook's ship…rumors had circulated about his wardrobe and I—I thought I knew what had to be done."

Emma peered at him curiously, her pulse was racing and her head was swimming with each word Neal spoke, "What?"

"I had to take you back, I thought maybe this had all been predetermined…fate's messed up way of getting you back to your world to break the curse." A silence hung heavy over them and taking a deep breath Neal looked from Emma to Hook and then back to Emma again. "The pixies created a potion many years ago…it was made to make one forget Neverland. Sometimes when a boy becomes a lost boy, he makes the choice to not stay lost forever. If they leave Neverland they drink the potion and the memories of their time as a lost boy cease to exist."

Angry, Emma swatted away a tear that had sneakily escaped her eye, "You gave me that potion."

Closing his eyes, Neal nodded. "I had a vial of it on me, and—and I knew that if we went through the wardrobe, if you recovered and got better you would do everything in your power to find Hook again. Your role as the savior would never be realized…it would be neglected. I—I made what I thought was the right choice."

"It wasn't your choice to make." Emma whispered, her heart breaking as she remembered how desperate Killian had looked when he had seen the vial Neal had held before the wardrobe's door had closed completely.

"I'm sorry."

Feeling more tired than she'd felt in years Emma shook her head, still trying to process everything he had told her "Answer me one more question…why did you leave me again? After I recovered…why did you let me take the fall for you? Why did you send me to prison?"

A pained look crossed over his features, before Neal let out a bitter laugh. "August…he eventually caught up to us. He said we were going down a dangerous path; I was distracting you from your destiny. He said that leaving you would be best for you, that it would help get you on the right track so you could do what needed to be done."

"You left me because Pinocchio told you to?!"

He winced, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I left because I thought it was best."

"I trusted you!" She said so quietly, she wasn't sure if he heard, but Killian's hold on Neal faltered slightly and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. "I didn't love you…but I trusted you…you betrayed me… _you broke me._ "

"I'm sorry." He said again.

Tired and resigned, Emma took a step back from him. "I was pregnant, I gave up my son because of you. I went through ten years of my life thinking that he was yours." She didn't even bother wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes to the hard ground between them. "And I couldn't remember it…I couldn't remember being with you. But—but there was no explanation. For ten years I wandered through life never knowing who my son's true father was, never realizing that he was out there somewhere, fighting to get back to me."

Neal didn't say anything at that, instead he looked down at the ground, his eyes avoiding hers, his figure slumped against the wall. A tense and heated silence hung over the small crowd gathered and Emma closed her eyes, willing herself to remain strong, to pull it together.

"Emma, love, say the word and I will end him." Killian whispered softly in a strained voice, his tone so low only she could hear.

Glancing up at him, she sighed and stretching a hand out to cup the side of his face gently, she smiled sadly. "He's not worth it."

"He betrayed you, stole you from me. He is the reason our son grew up without his parents."

"I know."

She saw a dark look flash in Killian's eyes and just as he was about to say something, they were interrupted.

"As touching as this whole reunion has been dearies, I suggest you let my son go."

Killian's whole body went rigid and Emma placed a comforting hand on his arm, reminding him that she was there.

"Crocodile…give me one good reason I shouldn't gut your son and then come after you."

"Aha I could give you two good reasons." Gold said, his tone sounding eerily jovial given the situation. "One, even if you did manage to kill my son, you could never kill me, I have magic… _and you don't_." He smiled widely, the grin looking out of place on his narrow features. "And two…your princess over there made a deal with me and now she owes me a favor…"

Killian shot his gaze towards Emma, and she nearly cringed at the pained expression that lurked there, " _Emma?"_

"I—I didn't know who he was at the time. I didn't know about his deals. I thought I was helping a friend." She muttered softly, not knowing what else to say.

"Ahaha! But wait there's more." Gold said pointing one finger to the sky with a little shake of his head. "I'm willing to make another deal."

" _Never…_.you spineless coward of a man." Killian spat in an acid tone.

"Oh you'll want to take this deal _Captain_." Stepping towards them he cast his beady eyes in Emma's direction. "If you agree to release my son, to never come after either of us, to leave us in peace...then I will release Emma of her obligation to me…but if not…then I can promise you…you will not approve of her end of the bargain and your family will suffer for it." At his silence Gold laughed the sound cackling and high pitched. "Take the deal Captain…and we can all live in peace."

After only moment's hesitation, Killian released Neal from his grasp—the man slumping to the ground almost boneless as Killian turned and faced Gold with a glare. "Leave my family alone Rumpelstiltskin or I promise you I will finish what I set out to do nearly three hundred years ago."

At Gold's sinister grin, Killian shot Emma a tired look, and glancing around the small crowd, he lowered his head and began to walk away. "Apologies, " he muttered softly, his long black coat billowing out behind him with each brisk step he took.

Watching as Henry broke free of Ruby's grasp to follow his father, Emma glanced behind her at Neal's still slumped figure and frowned. Deep regret pooled in her gut and sympathy for the lost boy who seemingly never had the chance to become a man settled itself upon her. With a father like Rumpelstiltskin had he ever really had a chance? There was a small part of her that didn't blame him for his careless actions, unable to imagine the fear and desperation that had followed him most of his life. Breaking away from her thoughts, she brought her attention back to Gold, shooting him a withering glare as she caught his too satisfied smile.

"Magic or not I'm still Sheriff of this goddamned town. If you so much as look at my family the wrong way I'll come after you." She said, her tone low, the hint of a threat laced through the harsh words.

Gold merely smiled at her, inclining his head towards her slightly. "I wouldn't dream of it Miss Swan."

Satisfied with that, she made her way towards Henry and Killian's retreating figures, stopping only when Mary Margaret reached out to her and grabbed her hand, giving her a comforting and reassuring squeeze. "You guys will be okay."

Meeting her mother's gentle gaze, momentarily stunned by the glittering tears and unyielding love, she offered her a tight smile. "I know."

And stepping away from her, Emma began walking towards her family once again, knowing with some odd sense of certainty that they were going to be _just fine._

* * *

The wave a pain that swept through her took her breath away, and letting out a small strangled cry, she turned her head to the side, trying to block it out.

"Emma…"

Her eyes shot up to his, staring at his face as it hovered over hers. "You!" She spat, her breathing labored, her brow sweaty. " _You_ did this to me."

A pained expression crossed Killian's features and he sighed softly, his shoulders drooping somewhat with the action. "It was never my intention love." He said quietly, and Emma cringed as she heard the smallest hint of light amusement laced in his voice.

Angry with him, she bit back a smart retort, slapping his hand away when he went to run gentle fingers over her hot forehead. At his slight eye roll, she pinned him with a furious glare. "Don't you touch me." She seethed, "don't you ever touch me again. I swear to God I will kill you if you do... _after_ I chop off every single one of your goddamn fingers."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice mocked her knowingly—whispering that her words were dripping with dramatics and untruths.

To his credit, Killian didn't respond to her threat, instead his eyes focused on something over her shoulder and wincing, he grabbed her hand, his brow narrowing when she tried to yank it from his grasp. "I'm so sorry love."

At the warning look in his eyes, she nearly cried and the moan of pain that rippled up from her throat rang in her ears, as her body protested the agonizing waves that swept over her. "I hate you." She breathed, when she was finally able to coherently speak again.

He nodded, at that and wiped a damp strand of hair away from her face. "I know."

There was some slight commotion behind him and Emma watched as he glanced over to see what was causing the flurry of activity, his gaze seemingly seeking someone out. When he turned back to her, his features had smoothed out a bit—his expression appearing almost relieved. "Almost over darling."

"Go away." She mumbled, hating him for the humored gleam in his eye.

And tuning out his muffled laughter, Emma caught sight of Whale as he walked towards them with sure and confident purpose. "Are you ready?" He asked, his eyes flitting over to Emma, his gaze accessing her with slight concern.

Emma sighed in relief at the thought of the pain ending, her body nearly weeping with gratitude. "Yes" She breathed in a raspy and weak voice—she hated the sound.

Whale nodded and patting Killian on the shoulder gave him a look of unmasked sympathy. "Everything's almost ready, she's looking good so it's just about time." Turning to leave, he quickly glanced at Emma again. "Have you decided on a name…or is she simply going to be Baby Girl—" He paused for a moment. "Well _Christ_ is she Swan or Jones?"

Despite her discomfort Emma's lips quirked up into a tiny smirk and she raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "Wendy."

The doctor looked from her to Killian his usually serious expression smoothing into a wide genuine smile. "Wendy." Shaking his head, he chuckled to himself, "Alright give me a few more minutes and then we'll get started."

And as he walked away Emma reached out for Killian's hand, her damp fingers interlocking with his, her tired stare meeting his clear blue one. "I love you." She said a hint of laughter sneaking into her tone.

At the simple statement Killian's eyes flashed with something light and the gentle smile he gave her had her heart clenching tightly. "I know." And leaning down he brushed his lips against her damp brow softly before leaning back again. "And I love you. Now let's meet our daughter shall we?"

With a determined little nod, she offered him another weak smile and promised herself she'd be kinder to him with the next contraction, knowing he really didn't deserve her pain induced wrath.

But as the threatening waves began to build deep in her back, she knew with some misplaced sense of amusement that it was a promise she was sure she wouldn't keep.

* * *

_ Storybrooke Main, sometime in the not so far off future _

Making her way above deck, Emma greedily breathed in the cool sea air as the wind lightly caressed her cheeks and loose strands of hair danced around her face. Walking out into the warm sun, her eyes quickly swept over the small crowd gathered on the ship, immediately noting Mary Margaret standing off to the side dabbing her wet eyes— David's arm comfortingly wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Ruby stood next to Whale, her head resting against his chest, his arm loosely wrapped over her shoulder. Continuing to walk across the deck, she acknowledged with some surprise that Regina stood uncomfortably off to the side, Archie standing next to her with a small and warm smile on his face. Sweeping her eyes over the rest of the crowd, she offered a tight smile to those who caught her eye before glancing up towards the helm. Henry stood there tall and proud, his arms full of a wiggling and laughing baby girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

And finally, finally, her gaze drifted past her children to the man who stood behind them.

When her eyes met Killian's she couldn't stop the tiny quirk of her lips and the tilt of her head as he smiled brightly at her, his features dashing and near regal in his dark dress attire. Suddenly picking up her pace, she walked towards him fast, paying no mind to the people she passed, her eyes only on the man in front of her. And she grinned widely, unable to help herself, when he too began walking towards her. A slight murmur shot through the crowd and she heard Ruby's knowing chuckle as the couple made their way towards each other.

When the space between them had closed and she stood nearly toe-to-toe with him, Emma tilted her head up and met his shining blue gaze.

"Hey beautiful." He said softly, and reaching out, in a move that never failed in making her melt, he cupped the side of her face with his hand and ran his thumb tenderly over her cheek.

"Hey." She whispered back, her heart in her throat and her eyes welling with tears.

Smiling gently, he stepped even closer. "Oh come now darling, why the tears…one might think you regret your decision in marrying a pirate _Captain_."

Laughter bubbled up in her throat and she chuckled softly at his words, shaking her head in silent disagreement.

Slowly moving his hand from her cheek to her waist, he pulled her even closer and lowered his mouth to her ear. Closing her eyes, not caring about the little display they were giving their guests, she shuddered as his breath whispered across her neck. "Then will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Knowing she couldn't speak if she tried, she nodded quickly and pulling her head back ever so slightly, she reached up and cupped his face in both hands. Damning tradition to hell, she pulled him towards her and kissed him softly, ignoring the surprised gasps and muffled laughs that rippled through their wedding guests. Killian, never one to turn down an invitation, quickly kissed her back and for a moment it was just the two of them on the decks of the Jolly Roger in the cool ocean air, wrapped up in each others warm embrace. After a moment of allowing herself to indulge, she pulled back and looked into his sea blue eyes, knowing that the love she saw there was reflected in her own happy gaze.

"I love you Killian." She whispered, the words just barely audible over the sound of the billowing sails above them.

"And I love you Emma."

And smiling up at him, she attempted to memorize every detail of his face, never wanting to forget the perfect moment, forever stamping it in her memory.

"Promise?" She asked with a tiny smirk and a crinkling of her eyes.

And her heart fluttered a bit with the question…

Because she knew without any doubt in her mind what his quick and unyielding answer would be.

"Always."

_End._


End file.
